white noise
by chaosbarnes
Summary: Being a foster parent isn't easy, Toriel learns. Especially when this foster child sees everyone they meet as a monster and claims to have an imaginary friend who tells them to do things. But hey, kids have active imaginations, right?
1. Chapter 1

**despite the world, universe, and every force in existence telling me not to write this and work on my other fics, i wrote it anyways.**

 **now, i don't know how foster care works, but i've researched quite a bit and i'll continue to do so throughout this fic.**

 **basically, the story here, is that everyone is human, except frisk hallucinates everyone to be some kind of monster.**

 **enjoy, nerds.**

* * *

Sans knocked on the door, shoving his hands in his pockets and wiggling them around in the mittens that adorned them. It was snowy outside, the streets freshly cleaned so cars could drive through smoothly.

There was a bit of shuffling from inside, followed by hushed murmurs and laughs. Then the door swung open, and Toriel stared down at him. She was dressed in her usual attire—a long blue and white dress that complimented her dark skin and hair, her bright eyes contrasting greatly. Sans grinned up at her, saluting playfully.

"Hey, Tori," he greeted, and then glanced behind her to see a pair of small hands gripping at her dress. "Did ya get approved?"

Toriel's eyes lit up and she nodded excitedly. "Yes! They just arrived yesterday!"

Toriel stepped aside to let Sans inside, and then closed the door behind him. Sans watched as Toriel patted a head of wavy brown hair, gently pushing the owner in front of her. "Do not be shy, now, dear," she said softly.

The child hesitantly stepped forward, fiddling with their fingers and looking up at Sans with mismatched eyes from behind their long bangs. Their legs and knees were littered with bruises and bandages, as well as one across their freckled nose.

Sans looked up at Toriel.

"They like to run around," she quickly explained, patting the child's shoulder. "Quite an energetic child."

Sans knelt down in front of the child and patted their head with a grin. "Hey, kiddo," he said, careful not to startle them. "Glad to have ya here." He tilted his head to look at them in the eyes. "You have pretty cool eyes, huh? Brown and blue—pretty rad."

The child looked embarrassed, and they cracked a tiny smile.

"For a while I didn't think you'd get approved," Sans said to Toriel, standing up and looking up at her. "Ya know, with..." His voice trailed off, and he immediately regretted saying anything.

Toriel's hand clenched at her dress, and she just nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line as she smiled sadly. "Yes, I know..." she sighed, and patted the child's cheek. "Come along now, say hello to your Uncle Sans."

The child blinked in confusion, and Sans laughed, "'Uncle Sans'?"

"I think it fits," Toriel teased.

Sans scoffed, and then bent down to look at the child closely. "So what's your name, kiddo?"

The child took a deep breath, clenching their fists, and stumbled over a few syllables before finally managing to say, "F-Frisk."

"'Frisk', huh? Cool," he said with a small nod. He looked up at Toriel. "So how long did it take for you to—"

"Are you a skeleton?"

At the sudden question, both Sans and Toriel looked over at Frisk, who was staring at Sans with their head cocked to the side. Frisk's face was genuinely curious, and they blinked a few times.

"...Huh?" Sans stammered, and then raised an eyebrow. "No, I'm not a skeleton."

"Yes you are!" Frisk persisted. "You're a skeleton! I can see you!"

Sans looked up at Toriel with a panicked look, silently asking her what he should say. Toriel bit her lip and grabbed Sans by the arm, pulling him away from Frisk and into the next room. Frisk looked confused by their departure, but shrugged it off and hopped in front of the TV.

"Wha—Tori?"

"There is one other reason why I was allowed to act as Frisk's foster parent," Toriel said with a sigh, leaning on the counter in the kitchen. "There were not many applicants who wanted a child with their... disorder."

"...'Disorder'?"

"Schizophrenia," Toriel replied, running her fingers through her hair. "They have schizophrenia. It is rather severe as well, to the point of hallucinations. So that is why Frisk sees you as a skeleton." She frowned, her eyebrow pinched together. "Though, I am not sure what causes this schizophrenia. The doctors said that it most likely does not stem from an abusive household, and I do not know why Frisk hallucinates people as other things."

"...Huh," Sans murmured, shoving his hands in his pockets. "So nobody wanted a kid with schizo'?"

"I am afraid not," Toriel replied. "It is ridiculous. Frisk is a wonderful child! Even if they are a bit... problematic at times."

"Everyone just wants the perfect white kid who gets good grades and has no problems," Sans said with a laugh. "But ya gotta just take what ya got."

"Mm," Toriel agreed with a nod. "But, I am certain these hallucinations do not last forever. They are sporadic, and I am not sure how to help with them."

"Frisk seems to be handlin' it just fine," Sans said, nudging his head in the direction of said child, who was getting excited over a program on TV.

"I suppose..."

"Why a skeleton, though?" Sans scoffed, and then there was a twinkle in his eye. "I guess it's because I'm... bad to the bone."

The two laughed, Toriel harder than she should have. She wiped at her eyes and grinned. "You know what Frisk sees me as?" she asked, and when Sans shook his head, said, "Some kind of goat creature!"

"I—wow, really?" Sans managed between snickers. "Maybe it's because... they're your _kid?_ "

The two burst into laughs again.

"Mom?" Frisk's voice piped up from the living room.

Toriel turned around, surprised, and excused herself before walking over to them, kneeling down and patting their head. "Is something wrong dear?"

"I can call you that, right?" Frisk mumbled sheepishly, "Or... is that not allowed?"

"No, no, it is quite alright!" Toriel assured, and then felt herself smile. "Would that make you happy? To call me... Mom?"

Frisk hesitantly nodded, shifting in place a bit.

"Well, then you may call me that all you like!"

Sans leaned against the doorway that separated the kitchen and the living room with a grin, watching the exchange between Toriel and Frisk as they excitedly told her about the program they were watching. She really was _meant_ to be a mother—everything that had happened wasn't fair. She didn't deserve any of it.

None of them did.

Frisk noticed Sans watching them and waved their hand happily. "Skeleton man, watch this with me and Mom!" they exclaimed, their eyes sparkling as they blew a strand of hair out of their face.

"Alright, alright," Sans chuckled, putting up his hands in a mock surrender. "Sans the skeleton is coming." He walked over to them, sitting down and ruffling the kid's hair, earning a smile.

He took out his phone from his pocket, ignoring the way Frisk watched him type.

\- _papyrus im gonna be home late_

\- _WHAT? WHY!_

Sans glanced down at Frisk and flashed them a grin.

- _tori got approved_

\- _OH! WELL IN THAT CASE THEN I'LL COME OVER TOO!_

Sans rolled his eyes.

\- _I SHALL BRING EVERYONE ELSE ALONG!_

 _Uh oh._

"Hey, uh, Tori?"

"Hm?"

"Does Frisk get nervous around large groups of people?"

"...Well, I am not sure. I suppose they may be shy around new people. Why do you ask?"

"Papyrus is bringing everyone over."

"Oh dear."

* * *

 **this is just the beginning, nerds. there's gonna be a LOT more.**

 **buckle up, yo. we're in for a wild ride.**


	2. Chapter 2

**oh hey**

 **i didnt think i was actually gonna continue this but here we are**

* * *

Frisk was mumbling to themselves in front of the TV, staring off into space and humming in between words. Toriel was in the kitchen, preparing to whip up a pie for the others' arrival.

Sans stared as the child absentmindedly flipped through channels, seemingly distracted by whatever force was occupying their thoughts. He frowned, and pulled out his phone before Googling "childhood schizophrenia".

Multiple results came up, some of them completely unrelated, but Sans' eyes caught the first result. He murmured the words under his breath, going unnoticed by Frisk.

 _ **Childhood schizophrenia** is a severe brain disorder in which children interpret reality abnormally. **Schizophrenia** involves a range of problems with thinking (cognitive), behavior or emotions._

Huh. Sans didn't know much about schizophrenia—or brain disorders in general. He had the basic knowledge that most had, but he had never really made an effort to learn more about it. He supposed now he had to, if he wanted to be knowledgeable about Frisk's life in general.

 _The cause of schizophrenia is not known. Current research suggests a combination of brain changes, biochemical causes, and genetic and environmental factors._

The next paragraph mentioned things such has how schizophrenia couldn't be cured, and how long, methodical research had been put into treating it and ridding of it forever. Sans sighed, looking over at Frisk, who had retreated from their previous mumbling and was eagerly invested in the movie on TV. Sans tilted his head to see the screen, and then looked back down at his phone.

 _The following symptoms and behaviors can occur in children or adolescents with schizophrenia: seeing things and hearing voices which are not real (hallucinations), odd and eccentric behavior and/or speech, unusual or bizarre thoughts and ideas—_

 ** _BANG!_**

Sans and Frisk both flinched, turning towards the door and staring oddly. It had almost sounded like someone had thrown themselves against the door heavily. Sans pocketed his phone and looked over to see if Toriel had noticed the loud bang.

She was whistling a rhythmical tune to herself as she placed a pan in the oven, too distracted by cooking to pay attention to anything else.

Sans snorted in amusement, and walked past the confused Frisk to open the door.

"SANS! WE ARE HERE!" Papyrus declared loudly, stepping inside and presenting himself. He looked around, and then sniffed the air. "WHAT IS THAT DELICIOUS SMELL?"

"Bro, quit shouting." Sans shot a look towards Frisk, who had paused the movie and was now standing, pale and frightened by the sudden yelling. "You're scarin' the kid."

"I'm sorry about him," Mettaton tried to apologize just as Papyrus skidded past Sans to look at the child. "We just went to eat at a restaurant and, well, he got the biggest dessert they had."

Sans just grinned. "Sounds like him."

"Did Toriel get approved? Papyrus wouldn't stop yelling about it on the way here," Mettaton said, watching as Papyrus and Frisk had an intense stare-off. "He even made me pick up Undyne and Alphys just to meet them."

As if on cue, Undyne and Alphys walked into the house, Undyne telling Alphys some dirty joke rather loudly and Alphys blushing so hard she looked like she was going to melt. Mettaton shushed her, causing Undyne to send him a terrifying glare, but Mettaton just pointed down at Frisk, unfazed.

Undyne closed her mouth, leaning over past Sans. Her face broke out into a large grin, and she very nearly jumped over Sans and landed in front of Frisk.

"Hey there, kiddo!" she exclaimed, beaming. "I'm Undyne, and that's my girlfriend, Alphys!" She pointed at said girl with a big smile, obviously proud of her accomplishment.

Alphys covered her face with her hands, and Mettaton laughed.

Frisk hesitantly lifted their hand, and waved sheepishly. They seemed nervous, and Undyne tried taking a step back to make them feel more comfortable.

"Oh, you are all here!" Toriel looked surprised as she walked into the room with a pie in hand. "Just in time, though, for I have finished the pie!"

* * *

Frisk had scarfed down their pie rather quickly, and returned to the living room where they sat in front of the television, watching a program and drawing something in a notebook at the same time.

"...Huh," Mettaton murmured as he stared at them. "What an odd child."

Toriel chortled, and then smiled. "Yes, they are rather... different." Instead of explaining all over again, she stood and grabbed a thin folder from the counter before handing it to him.

Mettaton blinked, staring at the cover.

 _FILE: Frisk [REDACTED]_

He looked up at Toriel with a confused expression. "What is this?"

"Frisk's file," Toriel replied, sitting back down and shooting a cautious look at Frisk (who was too distracted by whatever they were drawing to notice that they were talking about them).

Mettaton made a noncommittal noise in response, and carefully flipped it open to the first document. It was a piece of paper describing the basics of Frisk's identity—name, age, sex, hair/eye color, etc. There were two photos paper-clipped to the page, one being a very recent photo taken the day Toriel was approved, and the second being one from when they became eligible for foster homes.

He let out a slow breath.

The second photo depicted Frisk looking malnourished and bruised. Their face was wet, most likely from tears, and blood trailed out the corner of their mouth from their split lip. Their eyes, which were now bright and as unique as ever, were dead and cold and empty.

Mettaton glanced up at Toriel, blinking slowly. "Is this...?"

Toriel didn't reply. She just kept her gaze cast downwards towards her pie.

From the living room, Frisk watched them all with careful eyes.

* * *

"Hey, kid!" Undyne yelled excitedly as she slid across the floor and beside Frisk. "Can I draw with you?"

Frisk blinked, looking surprised, but nodded as they smiled. They took out some more paper and a crayon, handing them both to her. Undyne grinned, and hooted loudly before settling herself beside Frisk and pressing her crayon against the paper, thinking about what she wanted to draw. She pursed her lips, tilting her head, and then looked up at Alphys. She was talking to Mettaton and Papyrus on the couch, seemingly about something important to her.

Undyne smirked, and went to work.

Frisk hummed to themself as they picked up the red crayon, coloring in the eyes of the creature they were drawing. They heard a loud noise come from the TV, and glanced upwards, quickly becoming distracted in the movie playing.

"Wow, you sure have a short attention span," Sans laughed from the couch, but Frisk was too caught up in the movie to hear. "...Geez. Not one for conversation, I guess."

Toriel just shrugged. "When they get distracted, they tune everything else out..." Then she frowned. "I wonder if it is because..." Her voice trailed off, and she wandered back into the kitchen to clean up.

Frisk suddenly flinched, and turned to look at Undyne strangely. She turned away from her drawing to stare back at the child, cocking her head to the side and frowning.

"...Is there something wrong?" she asked, worrying if she had done something.

Frisk didn't answer. They sat on their legs, leaning up and putting their marker-stained hands on each of Undyne's cheeks. Undyne blinked, staring blankly as Frisk pulled on her hair slightly, touching all of her face as if trying to find something.

"Are you a fish?" they finally asked.

The entire room went silent, and Sans rubbed at his forehead.

"...What?" Undyne stammered, confused. "A fish?" She tried looking around at everyone for an explanation, and flinched at Toriel and Sans' looks telling her _Just go with it_. Undyne looked back towards Frisk, who, oddly enough, was waiting for an answer. "I, um—I don't know?"

"How are you breathing out of water?" Frisk mumbled, brushing their fingers against her neck, frowning.

"Um, I... uh." Confused and unsure, Undyne shot a look towards Toriel, silently asking for help.

Frisk looked around at everyone else, and quickly made their way to their feet. They pointed at Sans and declared, "He is a skeleton man!"

"Wh—"

"A _skeleton?_ "

"Yeah! It's like, like—a skeleton!" Frisk stumbled over their words, trying to prove a point they didn't even have.

Toriel bit her lip, and put her hand on Frisk's shoulder. "I think you need to calm down, my child."

"No!" Frisk protested, shrugging their shoulder away from her, and Toriel's vision was filled with red for a moment as she looked at Frisk's face with surprise. "You're all monsters!" they declared, stomping their foot against the ground before turning on their heel and storming away to their room.

The entire house was as silent as a cemetery as Frisk's door slammed shut.

Mettaton blinked. "What just happened?"

"Oh dear..." Toriel sighed, putting her head in her hands and taking a deep breath. "Alright... everything is going to be alright..."

"Whoa, Tori, you okay?"

"Yes, I am fine..." she murmured, and brushed a strand of hair back. "I just... We must be patient with them."

"But what the hell was _that?_ " Undyne spat, far harsher than she intended, and then stepped back a little. "I mean, their mood just changed so suddenly!? And what was that bit with the skeletons and fish?"

"It is all in the file," Toriel replied, idly gesturing towards the forgotten folder in the kitchen, not in the mood to explain anything. Her head began to pound, and she groaned. "Frisk is from a difficult household. We must be patient with them until they get used to everything here."

As the others walked off into the kitchen to look at the file, Toriel went over to turn off the TV and clean up the papers. She put the crayons back in the box, and took the notebook and stray papers into her hands to put away. She looked at each paper, seeing one of Alphys and reminding herself to give it back to Undyne later.

Each drawing was something different—a mountain, a waterfall, a snowy tundra, a river of fire—but there was one that caught her eye. It was unfinished, but the only part of the illustration that was complete sent a cold chill down her spine, and she froze.

It was the head of a person. They had messy red-brown hair, and eyes that were colored red like blood.

 _It's just a_ _coincidence_ , she told herself. Something in the back of her mind that refused to go away told her otherwise.

* * *

Once the others had all left, Toriel was vacuuming the house when Frisk quietly pattered out of their room and walked up behind her. She turned around, flinching for a moment and putting a hand to her chest when she realized it was just them.

"Oh, my child," she gasped. "You frightened me." When they remained silent, Toriel turned off the vacuum and put a hand on their head. "Are you alright, small one?"

Frisk picked at their fingers, wiggling their socked toes and frowning. "Um..." they mumbled shakily, voice cracking. "I... I'm sorry..."

"Oh," Toriel breathed, dropped to one knee and encasing Frisk in a hug. "It is quite alright, my dear. I understand."

Frisk's lip quivered, and they wrapped their arms around her, burying their face in her shoulder and sniffling. "I-I didn't mean to make anyone mad," they whimpered. "I was... I'm—" They broke off with a quick inhale, and Toriel's hug tightened.

Toriel didn't say anything. She just ran her fingers through Frisk's hair, rubbing the small of their back as they cried into her shoulder. She let out a small sigh and looked up slightly, at the mirror across from them.

For a split second, she could've sworn that Frisk's reflection was different. She could've sworn she had seen a head of red-brown hair instead of dark brunette. She could've sworn she saw a yellow and green striped sweater around Frisk instead of purple and blue.

She could've sworn she saw a pair of red eyes glaring at her, even though Frisk's face in buried deep into her shoulder.

Toriel sighed, letting her forehead drop onto Frisk's shoulder.

 _Just a coincidence._

* * *

 **this chapter was so bad? im sorry**


	3. Chapter 3

**i've decided that this fic isn't going to be very long? i'm planning for around 8-10 chapters max, although it may go over if necessary**

* * *

Frisk came home from their first day of school with a big grin and three more scrapes on their knees.

As Toriel cleaned and patched them up (she was running out of Band-Aids already), Frisk excitedly told her all about it.

"So—So today I met someone! And their name was Kid!" they exclaimed, eyes sparkling. "They were really nice, and they had no arms but could get around everywhere! It was _super_ cool!"

Toriel chuckled softly; the tone of Frisk's voice as they described their new friend from head to toe was amusing (and familiar). Frisk really was an energetic child.

"And my other friend showed up too!"

Toriel lifted her head with a raised eyebrow. "'Other friend'?" she repeated, stopping in her tracks just as she ripped open another Band-Aid to re-cover the one that had apparently been ripped off one of Frisk's more serious cuts.

Frisk nodded, and then beamed. "They're super cool, but scary sometimes." Their shoulders dropped for a moment as they stared off to the side, but then they quickly turned back to look at Toriel. "But that's okay! Everyone is scary sometimes. Like Sans—he's a skeleton sometimes. But not you!" they quickly said, widening their eyes. "You're a goat mom. Goats are _rad_."

Toriel laughed under her breath, shaking her head. "So what is this 'other friend's name?"

Frisk suddenly looked panicked, and Toriel backtracked. "Oh, oh, they said not to tell anyone their name!" Frisk almost shouted, throwing up their Band-Aid-littered arms. "I guess they're just shy!"

"... Hmm." Toriel narrowed her eyes suspiciously. Just what kind of friends was Frisk making? "What does this friend look like?"

Frisk hummed, scratching under their chin as they thought for a moment (although the reason why they had to think about it was unclear), and then snapped their fingers. "They have red eyes!"

Toriel froze. Her heart stopped in her chest, and her breath caught in her throat. After a few moments of staring at a random space on the floor, she shook her head and composed herself, looking back up at Frisk with a sweet smile.

"Oh... do they?"

"Yeah!" Frisk seemed excited, and Toriel tried her best to match their enthusiasm, despite the nagging thought in the back of her mind. "I thought it was weird at first, but then they told me to 'go look in a mirror'! I didn't see myself, but I saw them! It was so weird! But then after a while I saw myself, so it s'okay." They gave a nonchalant shrug.

Toriel wasn't sure what to think. She had finally quit spacing out and finished cleaning up Frisk. Deciding to take note on their words later, she patted them on the shoulder lightly. "Try being more careful when you are up and running; I may have to buy many boxes of Band-Aids."

Frisk giggled, and then nodded. "Okay, Mom!" they replied, and ran off (but not before tripping into a wall first).

Toriel sighed, letting her folded hands drop onto her lap. She began to speculate whether this "other friend" was actually real or not. Frisk had mentioned seeing the friend's reflection in the mirror opposed to their own. An imaginary friend, perhaps?

Her eyes drifted over to the file sitting on the table in the kitchen. She stood, and walked over to it.

* * *

 _FILE: Frisk [REDACTED]_

 _Age: 8 years_

 _Sex: N/A_

 _Hair color: Dark brown_

 _Eye color: Brown/Blue (Heterochromia iridis)_

 _Ethnicity_ _: Native American_

 _Height: 4'1"_

 _Weight: 53.6 lbs._

The others had only seen this first page. Toriel had tucked away the second page for their own good.

 _ **ADDITIONAL NOTES:** Frisk [REDACTED] has been diagnosed with a severe case of childhood schizophrenia. Symptoms include: hallucinations, difficulty distinguishing reality from fantasy, irrational behavior, and sporadic periods of severe depression and isolationism._

 _Frisk [REDACTED]'s father is currently unknown. Frisk was found nearly dead and unconscious in the arms of their severely-injured mother in an abandoned building near Mt. Ebott. Police reports reveal that this building was used to kidnap children and sell them on the illegal sex market. Due to an effort of keeping the remaining family together, Frisk [REDACTED] has been placed into foster care while their mother recovers from her injuries at the local hospital._

 _The causes of the injuries are unclear. Frisk [REDACTED]'s mother (name N/A) seemed to have been intoxicated heavily with alcohol and drugs prior to police finding them. Authorities speculate that the mother, and/or the father, may have been involved with the sex trade._

 _Further investigation will need to be arranged._

There were multiple photos attached, a few that the others hadn't seen. The two that had been clipped to the first page depicted a happy Frisk and a beaten-up Frisk. The others weren't much better.

One was a photo that had been taken of the abandoned building just after Frisk and their mother had been found. There was blood splattered across the floor, as well as dried white fluids and overturned tables and beds that Toriel didn't want to know at all what they were for.

The second was a photo of Frisk's mother—hair stuck to her sweaty and bloody face, her eyes saggy and droopy, her cheeks hollow and skin deathly pale compared to Frisk's. Toriel wondered how she was doing. Frisk hadn't spoken about her, not even once.

The third was the absolute worst.

The photo depicted Frisk laying on a stretcher, just barely alive and breathing as their mother was taken to the hospital through a different ambulance. The photo was blurry, very obviously hurriedly-taken, but that wasn't the most disturbing part about it.

Frisk's eyes were shining a color Toriel couldn't place, and their eyes were focused solely on the camera, wide and unblinking and as focused as ever. As if they knew who was behind the photo. As if they knew what was going on.

Toriel shuddered. Creepy.

* * *

At night, Toriel could hear Frisk talking to themself in their room. Or, to their imaginary friend.

"I didn't say your name, don't worry!"

"... Yeah, okay. Hey, can I draw you again?"

"No? What do you mean no! You're _really_ cool and I wanna draw you!"

"You're not creepy, only sometimes. Like when you do the scary face?"

"ACK! Yeah! Like that! Haha! Man, I wish _I_ could do that. It'd be _so_ cool."

"... Huh? Oh, no! It's super late! I have school tomorrow! Hey, are you gonna come with me to school again?"

"Aw, come on! Going to school _has_ to be more fun than whatever it is you have to do, right?"

"You're so mean! Oh well, goodnight."

Toriel heard a shuffling, and then the lights in Frisk's room went dim.

She swore she could almost hear a faint, wispy voice murmur _Goodnight Frisk_.

* * *

"Mettaton, do you mind watching over Frisk for a moment while I run to the store?" Toriel asked, and then scratched the back of her neck. "It seems I have ran out of eggs."

The male looked up from his phone, and then nodded. "Yeah, sure!" he exclaimed, and then leaned over to pinch Frisk's chubby cheeks as the child sat on the floor with their markers. "Me and the little darling are going to have so much fun!"

"I will only be gone for a few minutes," Toriel chuckled and grabbed her purse. She walked towards the door, opened it, and called, "Try not to make a mess while I am out."

"'Kay, Mom," Frisk mumbled as Mettaton smiled sweetly and waved.

As soon as Toriel closed the door behind her, Mettaton returned to his furious texting on his phone. He completely tuned everything out, including Frisk, and didn't notice when they crept up behind him to see his screen.

"Who are you talking to?" they asked, suddenly close to Mettaton's ear, and the latter literally screeched in shock, his phone dropping out of his hands and landing with a clank on the ground.

He grumbled, shoving them away lightly and picking up his phone. He was about to start texting again, but then stopped, and wiggled his hips around. Mettaton peeled up the front of his shirt, and sighed. "Great," he groaned. "You made my binder come loose."

"I didn't do it!" Frisk protested.

Mettaton fumbled with the strap of his binder for a few moments, trying hard to ignore the curious stares of Frisk that only made his fingers shake nervously.

"Is that a binder?" they asked, tilting their head and turning upside down dramatically. "That's not a binder. Binders are white, and have holes to put papers in."

"Huh?" Mettaton questioned, confused, but then made an _oh_ sound in realization. "Oh, this isn't a school binder. It's, um, a binder to put around your chest."

"Why?"

"Well... uh—" How was he to explain this to a _child_ ? "—sometimes... people get uncomfortable with their bodies, so they decide to change them to feel more comfortable. Like... imagine if you were forced to be a girl no matter what, and no matter what you did, you were continuously treated as a girl over and over. You were told to dress like one, behave like one, talk like one. And if you weren't what they wanted... they cast you out. Sometimes... even killed. You could die just because everyone wanted you to be a girl but you didn't."

Frisk immediately frowned.

Mettaton covered his face with his hands, wincing internally. He just accidentally went all out on a child.

"I get it," Frisk said instead of what Mettaton was expecting, and he looked up in surprise. "People want you to be a girl, but you're a boy. And you'll be a boy no matter what."

"... Yeah," Mettaton said slowly and then smiled. "Yeah, that's it." An 8-year old _child_ immediately understood him. A _child_ who he _barely_ knew, and his _parents_ wouldn't even speak to him anymore because of who he was. Ridiculous. What a world.

"It's like me," Frisk continued, and softly added, "and my friend."

"Huh?"

"There were a lot of police guys around me before I came here," they said, eyes sparkling with determination. "They kept asking if I was a boy or girl, and using she and he, and when I tried to say I didn't want to be either they blamed it on..." They frowned. "... I can't remember the word. It started with a T. Tr... Trau..."

"Trauma?" Mettaton guessed.

"Yeah!" Frisk exclaimed, and then frowned again. "They all said the trauma and 'events that happened' made me confused." They sat on their legs, looking down at their lap. "But... I'm not crazy. I know I'm not..."

Mettaton grabbed their hands and kissed their forehead. "Frisk, listen to me," he said firmly, and took a deep breath when the child finally looked up at him. "You are not crazy. There is nothing nobody can blame for you being like this. It's how you were born. Understand?"

Frisk blinked a few times, and then nodded, wiping stray tears from their eyes.

"I have returned!" Toriel exclaimed, opening the door and holding a bag from the market. She stopped in her tracks once she saw Mettaton and Frisk engaged in what seemed to be an important conversation. Toriel narrowed her eyes, "Did I miss something?"

Mettaton and Frisk exchanged a side-glance, and the child squeaked in surprise when Mettaton suddenly engulfed them in a giant hug, holding them close to his chest. He gave Toriel a challenging look, "Toriel, I'm adopting your kid."

"What! No way!" Toriel exclaimed playfully, winking at Frisk.

"Noooo!" Frisk giggled. "You can both be my parents! Everyone can!"

Toriel and Mettaton both looked at them, and Toriel looked like she was about to cry. She walked over, hugged the both of them, and kissed Frisk's forehead, brushing back their bangs and smooching a newly-forming bruise (it was unknown where or when they had gotten it).

"Yes, we can all be a family, dear."

* * *

 **yes, mettaton is trans. yes, frisk is agender.**

 **and ohoho, seems like we're getting a bit of insight into Frisk's past! but hey, that's just a little part of it. there's gonna be a lot more, in so little chapters :0**

 **reviews are always appreciated!**


	4. Chapter 4

**I FORGOT I WAS WRITING THIS STOR Y SJSJSJ**

* * *

Frisk was never good at explaining the things they saw.

Ever since they could remember, they've been seeing things that others couldn't see, and seeing real people as things that they weren't. Monsters, objects, food—it was all the same, yet it was all different.

They didn't even know that they weren't supposed to be seeing these things until a few years ago. When they told their mother that she was a moose and she sent them to a therapist after punishing them.

The doctors that always surrounded them said they had something called "schizophrenia". They didn't understand, but they just went along with it. They knew well not to question things. They have for a while now.

Then their mother was taken away and Frisk was put in the hands of someone much kinder, and a lot of the bad feelings they had seen and felt were washed away. That is, until the first night they slept at their new home.

There was something—or someone—watching them as they laid in the bed. It wasn't their bed, not yet. Maybe it belonged to whoever was watching them. Maybe it belonged to someone else. Maybe it didn't belong to anyone at all. They didn't feel welcome at all, and the one watching them made sure they did. There was something dark with them, filling up the room until it was half-empty and suffocating them, filling their lungs and stomach until they were consumed by it.

Then they woke up the next morning to a sunlit day, the birds singing and the flowers blooming. It was a beautiful day outside.

* * *

It was the second day of their stay when they had saw Chara for the first time.

It didn't last very long. Frisk was sitting at the kitchen table with their coloring book and crayons when they looked up and saw a figure sitting across from them. Their form wasn't completely solid, and Frisk could see through them. The person looked like a child, just like them, and they had very messy red-brown hair that didn't look like it had been combed in a while. Their eyes were a deep red, and when they opened their mouth to speak to Frisk, black tar spilled from between their teeth and over their tongue, dripping all over themself and the floor.

It had startled Frisk so bad that they nearly fell off the chair. Toriel rushed over just in time to catch them.

"I saw something scary," was all Frisk said to her, pointing at the now empty space across from them.

Toriel didn't say anything to them in response.

* * *

The second time Frisk saw Chara was later that day—when they were sitting in front of the TV and drawing whatever showed up on the screen.

" _You sure like to draw, huh?_ " came an echoed voice, and Frisk was surprised to see the same person from earlier sitting cross-legged beside them. They were only slightly taller than themself, their hair blowing around even though there was no wind.

But even though Frisk had been frightened by them earlier, they assumed that the black tar that tumbled out of their mouth wasn't intentional. "Yeah," they replied, holding out a yellow crayon towards the person. "Do you wanna draw with me?"

The person shook their head, their red eyes glowing impossibly brighter. " _No,_ " they said. " _I wouldn't even be able to hold the crayon anyways._ "

"Oh," Frisk said back. So this person was another imaginary friend. "What's your name?"

" _Chara_ ," the person replied. " _And you are Frisk._ "

"Mm-hmm!" They weren't even fazed by the fact that this person already knew their name. If they were Frisk's imaginary friend, then of course they would know.

Chara didn't say anything for a while. They just watched as Frisk paused the movie on an image of a mountain surrounded by trees, and went to work on drawing the image the best they could. It wasn't until Frisk was nearly finished when they asked, " _Why do you like to draw so much?_ " Their tone was strange; Frisk couldn't tell if they were actually curious or if it was rhetorical.

"It started as a distraction but it's super fun!" Frisk said excitedly, messily coloring in one of the trees. "Don't you have stuff to do that's fun?"

" _I used to,_ " was all Chara said.

When Frisk looked up again, they were gone.

* * *

Ever since the first two times, Chara had been appearing more and more. Frisk still hardly knew anything about them, but everywhere they went, there was Chara. In their dreams, beside them, at school, during meals—like they were unable to leave Frisk alone. Frisk didn't mind, though; they quite liked Chara.

But every time Frisk tried to talk about Chara, they stopped them. Like Chara didn't want to be known. They didn't want anyone else but Frisk to know about them.

" _I should remain a secret. Just special for you,_ " is what Chara said to them.

Chara told Frisk many odd things. _You're special_ , they said. _You're more powerful than you think,_ they said. _You're not a freak,_ they said. _They're all wrong_ , they said.

Frisk didn't question it. They knew better.

They could at least appreciate the compliments.

* * *

"My child?" Toriel asked as she walked into their room, pushing open the door and peering inside.

Frisk looked away from the wall, their mouth snapping shut as they turned to look at her. They tilted their head questioningly, and Toriel cleared her throat.

"Well, I have received a phone call from the hospital," Toriel explained, watching Frisk's face carefully. "They said that your mother has healed enough to awaken, and... she has been asking for you."

Frisk's expression didn't change, but Toriel could see it in their eyes. They were scared—terrified, even. But of what, she didn't know.

"Do you want to go see her?" Toriel finally asked, biting her lip. "If you do not wish to—"

"I'll go," they said, nodding, but Toriel could see it. Their face was pale, their hands were shaking slightly, the uncertainty was clear in their eyes.

"Oh, my child, but you do not have to—"

"She'll want to see me." Their tone was shaky. They clenched the bedsheets beneath them tightly, and gave Toriel a smile. It was fake, but it was masked so well that Toriel could almost believe that it was real.

"Well... alright," Toriel sighed, and then tapped her pocket. "I shall arrange a meeting tomorrow."

She left the room, and almost didn't hear the small whimper Frisk let out once she closed the door. Almost.

* * *

The hospital was so painfully bright that it hurt Frisk's eyes. They were used to darkness.

Chara was beside them as Frisk followed Toriel to the front desk. They stayed behind them, silently watching Frisk and patting their shoulder with a cold hand every time their shoulders trembled. The only thing Chara could touch was them—Frisk would feel flattered if they weren't so nervous.

Finally, they were at the door to their mother's room. Frisk could feel themself beginning to hyperventilate. What if everything went wrong? Their mind immediately went to the worst-case scenario, and they were probably about to vomit all over the floor and cry and scream until a warm hand was placed atop their head. Frisk looked up at Toriel, and her calm, patient smile cut through their anxiety like a knife, and they took a deep breath before walking inside.

The person on the hospital bed scrambled up in a panic, thrashing around. The nurse beside her pushed her back down onto the bed hurriedly, urging her to calm down.

"I felt it, I _felt_ it," the person muttered over and over, her brown eyes as wide as saucers as she trembled and spit trailed down the corner of her mouth. "It's here. _Evil_. I can feel its presence. It's _here_ and it's gonna _kill us all_ get it out out _out OUT OUT_ —"

"Please calm down," the nurse urged, frowning as he struggled to keep her down.

Toriel's hand clasped Frisk's tightly, and she carefully led them up to the bed, ready to pull them back if needed.

Their mother's eyes landed on them, and she went completely still. The nurse didn't budge however, and glanced between Frisk and his patient as the two stared at each other.

Then their mother's eyes drifted past their face and over their shoulder, and she started convulsing.

"IT'S HERE IT'S HERE _IT'S HERE_ ," she screamed over and over and over, and Frisk jumped back with wide, frightened eyes but stopped when their mother's hand suddenly touched their cheek. She seemed calm, her eyes empty and cold as ice. "You were supposed to die," she said, her tone painfully forced as her chest heaved with each shaking gasp. "You've doomed us all."

She withdrew her hand.

But then smacked it across their face.

Toriel gasped, and grabbed Frisk as she pulled them back. Frisk's hand went to their cheek in surprise, eyes watery and wide as they stared at her with fear and shock. She had never hit them before. She was never allowed to.

Chara had jumped up from behind them and was slowly walking towards their mother's bed. Their mother continued to scream and scream, and then more nurses came into the room and Toriel and Frisk were ushered out.

Chara didn't budge, and they didn't come out when the hospital room door closed, either.

Frisk didn't see them until later that night, as they sat cross-legged on the edge of Frisk's bed with a proud smile, their red eyes swirling with an unreadable emotion and the flush on their cheeks brighter.

Chara didn't tell them what happened.

Frisk didn't ask what happened when a phone call from the hospital came the next day telling them their mother had died.

* * *

 **this was supposed to be a cute story but then the plot hit me at 2 am and boom**

 **also im sorry this is short im supposed to be studying for midterms next week but...**

 **reviews are always appreciated**


	5. Chapter 5

_"Me and Papa are gonna be right back, okay?" their mother said deliriously, patting their cheek with a shaking hand, before pulling away as if their skin burned._

 _They didn't say anything—they weren't allowed to talk during these times, in fear of ruining something—and just nodded. Their mother's smile turned even more frenzied, and they took a step back as their mother rushed off to the rest of the group. She never told them who the people in her group were ("We're just trying to make a difference in this world, dear.")._

 _They turned around quietly, walking over to the corner of the dark room, and not daring to turn around as the noises and lights appeared. They folded their arms across their chest, tightening around their body as their shadow began to dance and taunt them. The noises suffocated them, flooding their ears, shoving itself down their throat, swirling around their body and arms and legs and head, blowing their hair around._

 _They just squeezed their eyes shut._

* * *

"Do you know who your father is, hon?" The social worker's voice was sweet—too sweet.

Frisk gave the worker a hard stare, and then slowly nodded.

The social worker gave another smile, and Frisk wondered if her cheeks were hurting from how much she had been smiling at them in the short time they've been talking.

"Do you know... where he is?"

Frisk nodded again. They felt Chara sitting silently behind them, and it felt like they were waiting for something to happen.

"Well, um... where?"

"Black circle."

The social worker blinked a few times, taken aback. Then she recollected herself and gave Frisk a confused stare. "Is that some kind of foreign city?"

"No," Frisk replied, and shifted in their chair a bit. They looked around the room, trying to distract themself by quizzing themself on where the snacks that Toriel hid from them were.

The social worker let out a slow sigh. "Frisk"—the way she said their name made them extremely uncomfortable—"I need you to work with me here, alright?" She pulled something from the black case she brought with her. It was a notepad, and she clicked the pen in her hands before flipping to the first page. "So, what is 'black circle'?"

Frisk looked back at her face. Chara was directly behind her now, eyes boring into the back of her head.

When Frisk didn't reply after a few moments, the social worker brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and cleared her throat. "I'm terribly sorry to be interrogating you like this, especially right when..." Her voice trailed off, but the implication hung thick in the air between them. "Anyways, I need you to tell me everything you can about your father."

"Why?"

"'Why'?" the social worker repeated, and then hummed. "Well, so we can see if he's suitable to take care of you!"

"I only want Mom to take care of me."

The social worker's mouth shut instantly, and she pressed her lips into a thin line. "Oh, hon... your mother... she's—"

"Not Mama. Mom." Frisk frowned. Was the message not clear? "Toriel."

"Oh, Toriel Dreemurr," the social worker realized, looking relieved for some reason. "She _is_ a kind woman. And a great mother. It's no wonder, considering her other two children."

Frisk blinked, tilting their head slightly. "Other two?"

"Did she not tell you?" the worker mumbled, and then laughed. "Oh, well, it's not my place to say."

Chara's eyes gleamed, and their fists clenched into balls as their shoulders shook. Their ghostly form was glitching slightly, buzzing in and out of view.

The social worker seemed to notice Frisk staring over her shoulder, and turned around, only to see nothing there. She frowned, and then turned back to Frisk, tapping the end of her pen against the notepad. "Frisk, dear, I need you to tell me about your father. Was he nice?"

"I don't know."

"I thought you said you knew your father."

Frisk nodded. "Mhm!"

"Then... how come you don't know?"

Frisk tapped their chin. "Hmm... well, he didn't like talking to me a whole lot. And he didn't like it when Mama took me to their meetings. But Mama said that she had to, but I dunno."

The social worker's head perked up, pausing her writing. "'Meetings'?"

"Yeah, like, with other people."

"...And you said you went to those meetings?"

"Yeah!"

"Do you know what... happened during them?"

Frisk shook their head. "I was always too scared to look, so I stood in the corner when the lights and noises turned on."

The social worker bit her lip, and picked at her manicured nails. She seemed to be deep in thought, and Frisk could see the question marks dancing around her head—they were bright blue and sparkling.

"I have to go," she suddenly said, abruptly standing and nearly knocking over her chair. "I may return at a later date. Tell Ms. Dreemurr I said hello." The social worker scribbled something onto a piece of paper, and then set it face-down on the table. "And give this to her, please."

And then she left.

Frisk blinked, confused by the sudden turn of events, and then looked up to see Chara now sitting in the seat where the social worker once sat. Frisk leaned over the table, nearly completely on top of it, and grabbed the note.

" _Are you allowed to read that?_ " Chara asked, almost sounding amused.

Frisk shrugged, idly picking at one of the Band-Aids on their face. "Dunno. She didn't say I couldn't."

" _Mm. That's true._ "

Frisk flipped the note over, and frowned once they read the messy handwriting. "I can't read this," they said, pushing it over towards Chara. "What does it say?"

Chara looked down at the note, leaning forward a bit and pursing their lips. " _It's just a note about when more social workers will come._ "

Frisk groaned, leaning back in their chair and dramatically tossing their head back. "Why does everyone keep wanting to know about me?" they muttered, huffing and crossing their arms.

Chara just chuckled. " _Because you're special._ "

"Hey," Frisk said, smacking their hands on the tabletop. "You know a lot about me, but I don't know anything about you!"

" _You know my name._ "

"Your first name!" they protested with a pout. "I don't know your last name or middle name or how old you are! Or your favorite color and food and TV show! We're friends, aren't we?"

" _I suppose._ "

"Then tell me stuff about you!" Frisk said, and smiled brightly. "Like a sleepover! Except it isn't night."

Chara smirked in amusement. " _I'm 12. Or, was._ "

"You're almost a teenager!" Frisk exclaimed, eyes wide in surprise. "Like, a bazillion years older than me!"

" _I'm only older by 4 years, biologically._ "

Frisk grinned cheekily. "You're, like, an old person now. Soon you'll have a beard."

Chara snorted. " _I don't think I can grow a beard._ " Then they let out a soft sigh. " _My favorite color is green, my favorite food is chocolate, and I don't have a favorite TV show._ " Their hands tightened in their lap. " _I didn't watch TV a lot._ "

"Eh? Then what did you do?"

" _...Played with my friend_ ," they replied unsurely, and Frisk shrugged.

"Sounds fun," Frisk said, and then rapped their knuckles against the table. They opened their mouth to say something else, but another voice coming from the living room interrupted them.

"WE'RE HEREEEEE—"

"Please, not so loud, Undyne."

"Oh, shit, sorry."

"U-Undyne!"

"Oh, fuck. I mean, oops."

There was a duet of sighs, and then three figures walked into the kitchen. Undyne, Alphys, and Toriel each stood in the doorway, Toriel and Undyne carrying bags of groceries. Alphys waved shyly, and Frisk smiled.

"Fish lady and lizard lady are back!" they exclaimed, jumping out of the chair and hitting their side on the corner of the table, but choosing to ignore it in favor of hugging Undyne's waist.

"'Lizard lady'?" Undyne repeated in confusion.

Frisk pointed to Alphys. "She's a pretty, yellow, lizard lady, and you're a pretty, strong, fish lady!" they explained, pulling away and smiling.

Alphys turned red, and Undyne grinned toothily. "Pretty odd pair, eh?"

Frisk shrugged nonchalantly. "I think it works."

Undyne slung an arm around Alphys' shoulders, leaning in as Alphys began to stutter and push her away. Toriel walked past them, letting them do their own thing as she took Frisk by the hand and set the bags on the table.

Frisk looked back at Chara—they hadn't moved at all since the girls came in. They turned back to Toriel and checked the bags as she began to put some of them away. "Did you get any chocolate?" they asked.

Toriel looked surprised for a moment as she turned back, closing the fridge behind her. "Hm? I did not. Did you want some?"

"My friend like chocolate," Frisk said. "You should get some so I can give it to them!"

They could feel Chara's stare on their back.

"Oh..." Toriel's voice wavered, but she quickly hid it with one of her heartwarming smiles. "I will be sure to purchase it next time I go to the store."

Frisk turned back around, giving two thumbs up towards Chara. The older child just scoffed, turning their head away, and Frisk was proud to note that the rosy tint on their cheeks had gotten slightly redder.

* * *

 _Even with their eyes shut, the noises and lights were still there. They could feel them crawling up their back, tickling their spine, whispering into their skin. Bright flashes danced outside their eyelids, but they didn't dare budge._

 _Hushed voices came from behind them, from the center of the room where their mother, father, and group of people stood. They didn't know what they were doing or what they were trying to do, but their mother always assured them it was for the best._

 _They didn't dare question anything; their father made sure to teach them not to. They didn't question it when their mother started bringing them to the meetings. They didn't question it when the other members of the group would take notes on them. They didn't question it when they saw the group carrying in bodies in black bags, even if they could hear muffled screams and cries coming from inside them sometimes._

 _Today, the group carried in six small bags._

 _The noises and lights were getting thicker, drowning out the murmurs of the group as they chanted whatever it was they were chanting. They could hear much clearer voices through the noise now, whispers and cries and angry screams._

 _"Help us," one of them whispered, right in their ear._

 _"Fight it," another murmured._

 _"Stay calm," came another._

 _They collapsed to their knees, covering their ears with their hands in a desperate attempt to keep the voices out._

* * *

"Mom, I don't wanna talk to them," Frisk said, hiding behind Toriel's dress as they stared dubiously at the two serious-looking social workers in the living room.

Toriel patted them on the head comfortingly. "It is alright, my child. They will not hurt you," she explained, gently encouraging Frisk to take a step forward. "They only wish to help you."

" _They only want to help themselves_ ," Chara hissed, and Frisk frowned.

The male social worker looked down at Frisk, his cold brown eyes boring into Frisk's dual-colored ones. He seemed like he was judging them, taking in their appearance and scrutinizing them. Then he sighed. "We don't have all day. Let's move to the kitchen."

He and the other social worker walked into the kitchen and sat at the table, followed by Frisk (at the request of Toriel). Toriel stayed behind in the living room, not part of the conversation but quietly listening in.

Frisk sat across from the social workers, picking at the scabs on their skin and the bandages that littered their arms. Chara was beside them, glaring daggers into each of the social workers, and if looks could kill, Frisk was sure that the two would be dead and bleeding on the kitchen floor by now.

"Your name is Frisk—"

"Yes," Frisk said, interrupting before the male social worker could say their surname.

He looked disgruntled, but continued nonetheless. "You are diagnosed with severe childhood schizophrenia, am I correct?"

Frisk nodded, even if they didn't really get what he was talking about. They knew what the doctors had said, but no one ever took the time to exactly explain it to them.

"Your mother died of unknown causes and your father's whereabouts are unknown?"

They nodded again, and Chara straightened their back, almost looking as if they were proud.

"Well, Frisk, we're only here because of one reason," the social worker said, and pushed her glasses up the bridge of his nose. He put his forearms on the table, leaning in and giving Frisk a hard stare.

The female social worker's stare wasn't any better. Frisk found themself glancing between the two anxiously.

"What kind of group were your parents in?"

* * *

 **guess who left y'all on a cliffhanger**

 **(answer: its me)**


	6. Chapter 6

**there is a bit of gore in this chapter (just a description, but still). please proceed with caution. it starts right after the sentence "She nodded back, flipping the page and pointing to the next one," and ends with "Do you recognize this person?"**

* * *

"What kind of group were your parents in?"

Frisk visibly tensed up, shifting in their seat uncomfortably. The female social worker's cold stare seemed to bore through them, and a shiver ran down their spine as they opened their mouth to speak, but then closed it after hesitating.

"I understand that this may be difficult for you," the male social worker said slowly, "but we really need to know what kind of organization your parents were involved with."

They heard a click, and looked over to see that the female worker had clicked her pen and was tapping the tip against a notepad, just like the social worker who had come prior to them. Frisk gulped, and scratched the back of their neck.

"...I don't know," they finally admitted.

Neither social worker looked convinced. Frisk shrunk in their chair, and refused to look at the female social worker in fear. They stared directly at the male, trying to give him a challenging look, but the way their hands were fumbling with their fingers most likely gave them away.

"I advise you to be more specific."

Frisk bit the inside of their cheek, and snuck a side-glance at Chara. They looked at them, their red eyes gleaming viciously, and nudged their head towards the female social worker. Frisk blinked, confused, and Chara just scoffed, shaking their head and waving their hand dismissively. Frisk pouted, and then turned back to the social workers, who were giving them strange looks.

"Mama and Papa never let me see what was going on," they said, looking to the side and frowning. They may as well be honest—the female social worker was scaring them and they didn't want to face what kind of wrath she could inflict.

"Can you describe anything at all?" the male asked hopefully, raising an eyebrow.

Frisk shrugged. "There were always a bunch of lights and noises and Mama made me sit in the corner," they said, and then put their hands up to make a mock explosion as if to amplify the example. "Sometimes the people would bring in bags. None of them liked me, though, so they wouldn't let me see what was in them. I don't think they liked that Mama would take me to the place."

The social workers glanced at each other, and the female one began to scribble furiously.

"Papa didn't like it either," Frisk said, eyes wide and innocent. "He would hit Mama a lot when he thought I wasn't looking."

Chara's mouth was parted slightly as they stared at Frisk, and the latter just shrugged dismissively at them, mocking their hand movement from earlier.

"Your father was abusive?"

Frisk tilted their head, furrowing their eyebrows. "Huh? What does that mean?"

"Nothing. Nevermind." The male social worker seemed to be thinking deeply, and then he leaned in towards the female worker and whispered something in her ear. Her expression was as stoic as ever as she nodded and wrote something else down on the notepad. The male social worker stood up, taking his phone out of his pocket and walking out of the room.

The female worker's sharp eyes turned to Frisk, and she pulled out a folder from seemingly nowhere. "I'm going to show you a series of photos," she instructed, her voice as cold as her stare, "and you're going to tell me if you recognize them."

Frisk folded their hand in their lap, and nodded slowly.

The female worker opened the folder and slid it in front of them, pointing to one of the photos with a manicured nail. She stared at Frisk from underneath her bangs as they leaned forward to look at the photos better.

The one she was pointing to depicted a dark area with a messily-painted black symbol circled largely on the dirty floor. Parts of it were stained with red, and there were seven slot-like areas on different sides of the symbol, with a giant heart shape in the middle. Overturned tables and bags surrounded it, all stained with red liquid and white dust.

Frisk pursed their lips, and looked up at the female worker shyly before nodding.

She nodded back, flipping the page and pointing to the next one.

Chara leaned forward with them this time to look at the photo, which depicted the face of a body this time. The body was horribly disfigured, its face swollen and coated in blood. Its mouth was wide open, black, tar-like liquid spilling from the corner, and missing some of its teeth. Its skin was deathly white, with splotches of yellow across the face and neck. Its neck was slashed, and the eyes of the body were wide open and pure black.

Frisk covered their mouth and jumped back violently, nearly knocking themself out of the chair. Chara immediately reached out to steady them, and the female worker's eyes went wide ever so slightly.

"Th... That..." they mumbled, throat tight and nausea coiling in the pit of their stomach. They felt like they were going to vomit, and felt themself getting dizzy as they tried to take a deep breath and calm themself down.

"Do you recognize this person?" the female worker urged, seemingly not caring about the graphic picture she had just shown to a young child.

Chara's eyes began glowing unnaturally, almost like there was a fire ablaze inside them, and Frisk tried to pat them awkwardly to keep them from hurting the worker. The female worker's eyes fixed on Frisk, and she waited patiently for Frisk's answer, her expression not once changing. Whatever her job was, she was really good at it.

Frisk swallowed thickly before nodding, trying to get the image out of their head, except it was still right in front of them and they couldn't help but stare at it.

"That's..." they choked, trying to finish their sentence, but their voice suddenly cut off and they could barely breathe. Their head was spinning, and Frisk felt like they were going to fall out of their chair and pass out if something or someone didn't ground them back to Earth soon.

"Who?" the female worker said calmly, as if she were trying to use her voice as a way to soothe Frisk's nerves. It didn't work.

Frisk's eyes welled with tears, and they whimpered softly, covering their eyes with their hands, and then there was suddenly a warm presence around them. They glanced to the side, expecting to see Chara sitting there, but they weren't there. Frisk looked up, and flinched in surprise once they saw Chara's eyes filling their vision. Chara was leaning into them from behind, their thin arms wrapped around Frisk's shoulders protectively. The warm feeling that suddenly flooded their veins instantly calmed Frisk's nerves, and they exhaled slowly as Chara's grip tightened slowly.

Frisk looked back up at the social worker.

"It's Papa."

* * *

 _"No... no... it'll all work out... I promise..."_

 _Their mother's cries fell on deaf ears as the resonating sound of a harsh smack filled the air. They flinched, turning their head away to avoid looking at the scene in front of them, but eventually opened their eyes and slowly peered over at their parents._

 _Their mother was curled up on the ground, covering her face and sobbing and laughing at the same time. She had always been the type to laugh while crying, and it had always terrified them. Their father stood above them, hands clenched into fists and fists shaking in rage. His face was red, and his eyes were blazing with fury. Except they didn't know what he was angry about. They didn't dare question it in fear that they would experience his wrath as well (but they felt guilty for letting their mother take all the blame, when they were sure it was their fault entirely)._

 _"You're going to doom us all," he said in a slow, calm voice, and then pressed the hell of his boot against their mother's cheek, forcing her onto the ground and almost stepping on top of her. "DON'T YOU REALIZE WHAT YOU'VE DONE?"_

 _"He said it'll be alright. He said it'll be okay," their mother muttered over and over, her legs twitching as she giggled and giggled. "Soon we'll be able to use all of them. It'll all change. It'll all be okay."_

 _Their father growled low in his throat. "You're so stupid."_

 _"But you're the same as me," their mother whispered, forcing her head to turn towards him, her eyes twitching and face slick with tears. "You've gone to the same lengths I have. You know what must be done. It's already started. Once it's started..."_

 _"...you can't go back," their father finished with a resigned sigh, and removed his foot from her face._

 _Their mother climbed to her feet, laughing quietly and holding her sides as she hugged her body. Their father hissed, narrowing his eyes, and suddenly shoved her into the wall, pressing his forearm against her neck once she tried to get back up. Her nails dug into his arm, and she grinned slowly, eyes darkening._

 _"It'll all be okay," she whispered, ignoring the pain that she must've been feeling and reaching up to stroke her husband's cheek._

 _They tensed up, hiding behind the wall and brushing their messy hair back to keep it from giving them away. As if on cue, their mother's eyes flickered towards their direction, her gaze locking onto their eyes. The movement went unnoticed by their father, and they shrunk, trying to make themself smaller, as their mother began to cackle loudly._

 _Their mother almost didn't take them the next day._

* * *

The male social worker returned a few minutes later, pocketing his phone and sitting down beside his partner. She turned towards him, taking back the folder and closing it swiftly, and then handed him the notepad.

Frisk watched as his eyes scanned the words for a few moments, his eyebrows raising at certain points. After finishing it, he turned to the female worker with widened eyes, and she just nodded.

"I believe we may have a case bigger than we imagined," she whispered to him, hiding her mouth with one hand, but Frisk wasn't sure how they were able to hear her if she was talking so quietly.

Chara had left them, and was now sitting beside them patiently. Frisk made a mental note to ask what exactly they had did to calm them down sometime later.

The male social worker nodded once, and then turned to Frisk with an obviously fake smile. Frisk could see it in his eyes, but they didn't show it on their face.

"Well, that's all we needed," he said and the two workers stood up in sync. The female left the room to speak with Toriel, and the male social worker looked Frisk up and down for a few moments, narrowing his eyes, and Frisk suddenly got the strange feeling that he was judging them.

Then Chara was behind him, their pale hand reaching up to tap his shoulder.

The worker flinched, letting out a strangled sound that sounded like a squeak, and whirled around. But Chara wasn't there anymore. Frisk figured that even if they were there, he wouldn't be able to see them—

Wait.

Frisk's eyes widened, and they looked over at Chara with wide eyes. Chara was just an imaginary friend. They shouldn't be able to _touch_ other people, or _interact_ with anyone, because Frisk was the _only one_ who knew they were there and could see them. They were a _creation of Frisk's imagination_.

...Right?

* * *

"Happy birthday, Papyrus!"

Toriel set down a large cake in front of him, and then lit the candles with a small lighter. Everyone else was seated around him on the table, Napstablook having tagged along with Mettaton and having to stand with Toriel due to the lack of chairs (Mettaton had tried to give up his chair to them, but Napstablook refused on the fear that they were being rude and greedy).

Mettaton smiled happily at the other; his grin could've lighten up the whole room.

Sans just chuckled. "Make a wish, bro."

Frisk sat on the side of the table, on the right of Undyne and Alphys. Their hair had been brushed by Toriel (who had commented them on how easy and manageable it was; she almost looked surprised) and had been tied into a small ponytail by her. Chara stood beside them, slightly behind the two chairs as they watched Papyrus blow out his candles along with everyone else. Compared to Frisk, Chara's hair was very messy and big, curling at the ends and sticking up in some places. It was almost cute, especially how it hung in their eyes and framed around their face childishly. It contrasted greatly with Chara's way of speaking—which was far past their average age level.

Once Papyrus had finished blowing out his candles, he was immediately busy loudly whispering his wish excitedly to Mettaton, and Frisk just raised an eyebrow at the two. Toriel went over to cut the cake, handing out pieces to everyone, and Frisk snickered as Undyne immediately dug into hers without waiting for Papyrus to take a bite of his. Alphys scolded her quietly, but it was obvious that she was amused as well.

Frisk stared at everyone, and suddenly their vision began to change. The people around them—their faces shifted and morphed into entirely different things. Frisk blinked, their mouth parting slightly as they looked at each person.

Papyrus was the first to change, his skin seemingly melting off his face until all there was left was a skeleton. His smile retained, and seemed like a permanent fix on his face. He didn't seem to notice his change, and Frisk tilted their head as they moved onto Mettaton.

Mettaton's skin became grey and metallic, bolts appearing on his joints and face. His hair looked almost synthetic and fake, and his pink tank top turned into a chest plate with knobs and dials on it.

Undyne was a fish lady again, her red hair becoming frizzy as she excitedly told a story to her pretty lizard girlfriend. Her face was animated, eyes wide, as she loudly chewed on her cake and spoke with her mouth full. Toriel's soft hand came to rest on her scaled shoulder, giving a soft smile that quietly told her to calm down. Her white fur hung in her eyes slightly, and Frisk blinked. Sans was also a skeleton again, leaning back against his chair and seemingly asleep.

Napstablook was floating quietly in the corner of the room, their legs and arms having disappeared as they silently listened to music through their headphones. They were like a ghost, but they weren't as see-through as Chara was.

"Oh, I forgot to ask," Frisk said, turning towards Chara, "what was that thing you did earlier?"

Sans opened one of his eyes and looked at Frisk questioningly, but then turned away.

Chara looked down at them and shrugged nonchalantly. " _Not much. I was just warming you up._ "

"For what?" Frisk asked curiously, straightening in their chair.

" _I'm sure you'll see soon enough._ " Chara folded their hands behind their back and glanced out the window, noticing the sun beginning to set and the sky beginning to shine a brilliant gold and red. " _I'm sure it's almost time._ "

Frisk pouted, and then scoffed. "You don't have to be so dramatic all the time," they muttered, and scratched at the bandage on their nose. "Can't you just tell me?"

Chara shrugged, trying to remain mysterious, but Frisk could see that they were trying to fight a goofy grin. Frisk just giggled, and shoved them playfully. Chara stumbled in surprise, their arm brushing against Undyne.

Undyne suddenly gasped, a shiver running down her spine, and she turned back to look at Frisk. "Whoa, kid, your hands are cold!" she laughed, and then returned to telling her story to Alphys.

Frisk blinked a few times, confused, and then looked up to an equally-confused Chara. "...Are you... actually an imaginary friend?" they asked softly, as if to make sure no one else would hear.

Chara bit the inside of their cheek. " _I think that's something you have to decide for yourself._ "

* * *

 _Everything was in monochrome, black and white._

 _"Dad! Dad!"_

 _The large man laughed as his two children jumped onto him, wrapping their small arms around his body and hugging tightly. He smiled down at them, patting their heads, and raising an eyebrow at the sight of a bruise on one of his children's arms._

 _"Did you get hurt?" he asked, picking up his son's arm delicately._

 _His son pouted, and then turned to give a faint, playful glare towards his sibling. "Yeah, they pushed me," he said, and his sibling scoffed at him._

 _"Snitch!" they called, crossing their arms._

 _"Are you alright?" the man asked, looking around for some kind of bandage or something to heal the bruise with. "Does it hurt badly?"_

 _His son shook his head. "No, it's fine. It doesn't hurt anymore," he assured, and then looked down at the injury. "It'll probably heal in, um, maybe a day?"_

 _The man nodded warmly, and then turned to give a stern look towards his other child, who looked away innocently. "How many times have I told you to not be so rough with your brother?"_

 _"Oh come on!" they said, huffing. "We're just playing around!"  
_

 _"And you got him hurt."_

 _"But we're just playing!"_

 _The man narrowed his eyes, but looked up once he heard the sound of someone walking in. It was his wife, looking as beautiful as ever. She smiled at him, and opened her arms as their children scrambled from his lap to run into her arms. "Traitors," he chuckled under his breath, and stood up from his seat to walk over to her._

 _"How was school?" the woman asked, kneeling down to be at their height._

 _"It was fun!" her son exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air. "But math class was hard. We had to learn about division and stuff."_

 _Their other child snickered. "I forgot you're younger than me," they said. "I already learned all that stuff!" They put a hand on their chest proudly, holding their head up high as they smirked deviously._

 _Their brother frowned, crossing his arms. "Just because you're older doesn't mean I'm dumber! You're only, like, two years older than me."_

 _"Two years smarter."_

 _"That doesn't make any sense!"_

 _"Now, now, children," the woman said softly, running her hands through her children's hair. "I have prepared dinner, so go wash up and please take your seats at the dining table."_ _As soon as she stood up, the two children locked eyes, deviance gleaming in their irises._

 _"Race you to the bathroom."_

 _"I'll beat you this time!"_

 _Then suddenly everything wasn't in monochrome anymore, and one of the children's eyes began to glow a deep red that glowed brightly against the black and white of everything else._

* * *

Frisk opened their eyes slowly, blinking rapidly to remove the grogginess that came from awakening. They rubbed at their eyes and sat up, taking a deep breath, and recollecting the events of their dream—well, it hadn't seemed like a dream. It was like they were watching something from someone's view, but also not.

Like a memory.

Everything had seemed so familiar, but it was like something was keeping them from recognizing everything completely. The people in the dream, the children, the monochrome atmosphere, the red eyes...

Red eyes were staring straight at them right now from across the room. Chara looked almost terrifying in the pitch darkness, but Frisk just smiled sleepily at them. Chara didn't change their expression or smile back, or even move. They just continued to stare.

Frisk swung their feet over the side of the bed and climbed out, rubbing at their back and stretching. They slowly opened their bedroom door, looking around for anyone that might be awake, and walked down the hallway until they got to Toriel's room.

The door was closed.

Frisk hesitantly wrapped their small hands around the doorknob, and pushed it open. The door made a loud squeak as it opened, and Frisk cringed once they managed to open it fully. The sound seemed to wake Toriel up, and she sat up in her bed (that was obviously way bigger than a twin bed and made for two people).

"My child?" she mumbled quietly, yawning in the middle of her sentence. "Is something the matter?"

"I can't sleep," Frisk said in a small voice, fumbling with the hem of their shirt, regretting their decision to come to her. But Toriel was nice, right? Frisk had never been able to go to their parents if they couldn't sleep—it happened way too often, after all, and their parents were always busy with something.

But instead of yelling like Frisk had been preparing themself for, Toriel just smiled and climbed out of bed. She walked over to Frisk and picked them up without a second thought, cradling them close to her chest as walked back towards their room. She was surprisingly strong, and she opened the door with ease and set Frisk back down in the bed.

"I shall stay with you until you fall asleep," she said, running a hand through their hair and kissing their forehead. She helped them settle back into bed, and then sat on the edge, rubbing their forehead and smiling sweetly at them. Frisk almost felt like crying.

They looked over at the end of the room to see Chara still staring at them, their red eyes boring into their heterochromatic ones. Then they remembered their dream, the two children happily engaging with their loving parents.

Then they remembered what the first social worker had said.

"Mom," they started, and exhaled slowly when Toriel looked at them in the eyes, "did you have any kids before me?"

The question seemed to take her by surprise, and her hand rubbing their forehead stopped. She stared at them with wide eyes, and her lips parted as she gasped softly. "I..." she mumbled, her free hand clenching in the bed sheets. Then she dropped her head for a moment, laughing quietly with no emotion, and then looked back up at Frisk with an oddly sad smile. "Yes, I did. Two, in fact."

"What happened to them?" Frisk asked curiously. "Did they grow up?"

Toriel's eyes were glassy. "No, they did not."

"Oh." Frisk frowned. They weren't sure what Toriel was hinting at. "Where are they now?"

"...Not around. Anymore," Toriel finally replied after a moment's hesitation, and Frisk shifted in their blankets.

They tightened their grip on their blanket, wiggling their toes and pursing their lips. "What were their names?"

Toriel was definitely crying now. But the tears were thin and trailed down her cheek, barely noticeable in the dark.

"Asriel and Chara."

When Frisk looked up in alarm, Chara was nowhere to be found.

* * *

 **the thicken plots**

 **reviews are always appreciated!**


	7. Chapter 7

Chara was gone for a week.

Ever since Toriel told them the names of her fallen children—Asriel and Chara—Frisk hadn't seen Chara anywhere. They disappeared shortly after the reveal, not a trace of them anywhere.

In that week, Frisk found themself pondering the possibilities of Chara being one of Toriel's past children. There was much evidence that pointed to that being the truth—the dream of the two children and their parents, the small mentions of Toriel vaguely referencing to Chara, Chara not wanting anyone to know they were there, the fact that they were still around.

But it also didn't make sense. Why wouldn't Chara want Toriel to know they were there? Who was Asriel? How did they die? _Why_ was Chara still around?

Why was Chara so determined to "keep Frisk safe"?

It didn't make sense. Frisk's head hurt just thinking about it.

* * *

Another social worker came two days after Chara's disappearance. Without Chara there to help them through it, Frisk felt more anxious and terrified than ever.

They could barely remember anything about what the social worker asked them. They were sure it had something to do with their parents' group and the location, trying to pry information about exactly it was the group did. But Frisk really didn't know, and when the social worker began to get frustrated with them, Frisk was automatically reaching out for Chara's help. But Chara wasn't there.

When the worker left, Frisk was left in a daze, and Toriel suggested that they lie down. But they didn't want to. They knew that if they slept, they would be wasting time—

Wait. Wasting time?

For what?

Frisk frowned at their thoughts. Chara was getting to them.

* * *

 _"NO NO NO DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH HIM."_

 _"W-wait, what's... what's going on!?"_

 _"LET HIM GO!" A sob. "PLEASE...!"_

 _"STOP STOP NO NO NO STOP PLEASE—"_

 _There was a squelching sound, followed by a ear-shattering scream. A flash of red eyes, followed by a growl._

* * *

"We have reasons to believe that your foster child, Frisk, was the child of two powerful figures in a cult."

Toriel put her hand on the receiver to hide her gasp, and then glanced over her shoulder to see a quiet, solemn Frisk almost glaring at the television. She took a deep breath and slowly returned to her phone call.

"...What are these reasons?" she asked softly.

"We've had problems with this group in the past," the person over the phone said, and what sounded like shuffling of papers filled Toriel's ears. "All across the country. Charged with kidnapping, murder, sexual assault, the works." There was a slap against the table, and the person sighed. "Many of them cover their tracks quite well, however, and we've hardly been able to catch a few."

Toriel didn't realize she had stopped breathing until she hiccuped quietly. "So... what does this mean for Frisk?"

The person cleared their throat, and dropped their voice a bit. "Well, my boss was hopin' that we'd be able to get Frisk in the building to see if the kid recognized anything, but I'm... not sure that's a good idea."

"I see."

"Like, the kid's dad was found dead there! Plus a bunch of other bodies! You can't just bring a young child into that kind of environment." Then the person seemed to rethink their statement. "Well... I guess... more than the kid already has."

Toriel nodded slowly. "Are there any other options?"

"As of right now, the kid is officially registered as an orphan. You can adopt 'em if you want instead of 'em just being a foster kid; I'm sure you'll be approved to do so," the person replied, and Toriel could hear the faint drilling of fingers against a desk. "And for us, well, I think we'll just keep digging into the location we found the kid and the rest of the group. I'm sure we'll find something."

"Please let me know if you do," Toriel urged, and let out a relieved sigh when the person on the other end replied with an approving hum.

"Oh," the person piped, as if remembering something, "we know the name of the group. Well, kinda."

"Am I allowed to know the name?"

"Well, probably." They paused. "I'll just tell ya anyway."

Toriel swallowed down her anxiety, and listened closely as the person on the other end flipped through something, most likely a file. Then they made a sudden excited noise, having apparently just found where it said the name. Then they cleared their throat, and said,

"They call themselves the 'Gaster Followers'."

* * *

 _Six voices were calling out to them at once, and they curled further into a ball, hands over their ears despite the fact that it did nothing to drown out the screams and whispers and calls._

 _Six separate presences were touching them at once, wrapping around their body like fog, and digging into their mind. The fog slipped through their fingers and into their ears, into their mouth that was open as they gasped, into their squeezed-shut eyes, into their skin and digging underneath. It wavered past their bones, their brain, their heart. They were suffocating, and they couldn't breath as the fog filled into their lungs and their vision was being filled with so many colors, so many lights._

 _The voices became garbled, and they couldn't tell what anyone was saying anymore. It was all jumbled together and broken down; meaningless words with no purpose (kind of like themself)._

 _When they managed to open their eyes, their body felt light, and the fog was gone. It was far, far behind them now, somewhere far away, and all that surrounded them was black mist._

 _It curled against their legs, wrapping around their shoes like a vine, and adjusting itself there._

 _"One more," came a whisper right in their ear, and they screamed._

* * *

Memories in the form of dreams came more and more often, and Frisk couldn't tell if it was their own memories or someone else's.

Things floated by without care, and Frisk's world slowly began turning into black and white. They didn't care if what they saw was real or not. They didn't care if their family were monsters or not. They didn't care if the things they saw weren't normal.

They didn't care.

They just wanted Chara back. They felt empty without them, but they didn't know why.

It was like there was a void in their body, and it needed to be filled with something. Not Chara, no.

They just didn't know what.

* * *

 _The black mist suddenly turned into black tar, hardening around their ankles and wrists and yanking them back. They screamed louder, kicking and struggling against the restraint, but then there were voices telling them not to fight it. Not to fight the hold so they could finally be free, so they wouldn't be trapped forever._

 _But they didn't listen._

 _They cried and kicked and screamed and thrashed around, digging their dirty fingernails into the black tar, their stomach getting squeamish when the wetness of whatever was holding them seeped into their skin. They were suffocating again, and the black tar was coiling around them harder and harder and tighter and tighter and now it was around their neck they couldn't breathe—_

 _"STOP!" yelled a boy's voice._

 _And the black tar was gone._

* * *

"Frisk, dear, are you alright?" Mettaton asked worriedly at the same time Papyrus shouted, "OH NO! FRISK! IS SOMETHING WRONG?"

As Mettaton shushed the other, Frisk reached up to realize that they had been crying. Quickly wiping their eyes with their hands, they nodded, and mumbled, "I'm fine."

Mettaton didn't seem convinced. He frowned, squinting at the child, and gently put his hand atop their head. He rubbed quietly, letting his fingers flow through their hair (which, he noted, was slowly getting messier and messier).

Frisk didn't say anything—they just continued to rub at their eyes more and more... and more and more...?

Noticing how red they were becoming, Mettaton hurriedly reached down and grabbed their wrists, letting his fingers curl into theirs, and got off the couch so he could kneel in front of them. He tried to look them in the eye, but Frisk kept hiding their face from him, using their bangs to conceal those pretty eyes of theirs.

"Darling," Mettaton tried, using one of his hands to lift Frisk's chin up, but even if they were facing him, their eyes refused to meet his. Mettaton let out a slow sigh, and kissed them on the nose—right over the band-aid that was stretched across it. They jolted, startled, and gave Mettaton a shocked look.

Mettaton chuckled softly, and patted their cheek. "You know, if anything is ever the matter, you can always talk to me about it, sweetheart."

But to his surprise, Frisk shook their head with a suddenly serious look.

"Not this time," they said, and their voice was grim.

* * *

 _Once they were certain that the tar was gone, they opened their eyes with a shudder, biting their lip to keep from crying. They could barely move; their body was wet with something red; their throat was tight and they couldn't breathe._

 _They were laying on the ground, body outstretched and practically lifeless. There was something red surrounding them, and it was wet and sticky and it smelled weird, but they didn't pay any attention to it._

 _They glanced around, unable to move their head but only their eyes, and saw nothing. Nobody. The entire room was empty (at least, on the side they could see). Instead of people, the room was covered in red stains and white dust._

 _They forced themself to look on the other side, despite the pain that rocked them head to toe. It was the same. Nothing, nobody, not a single soul to be see_ _n—_

 _Then their eyes caught something strange._

 _A body, slumped up against the wall, was twitching and moaning in apparent pain. They couldn't tell who it was, but it was someone, someone alive, and they had to get over there._

 _Their legs were rendered useless as they tried to stand—it was as if their entire lower body was paralyzed. They grunted, forcing themself up onto their forearms, and leaned forward to drag themself towards the body. It hurt oh so bad, but they ignored it, or tried to. Their mind was focused on nothing but how much it hurt and how much they wanted to just give up and fall back on the ground._

 _But then something sparked inside them. Suddenly, they felt determined, and they grit their teeth and bit their knuckle as they trudged forward._

 _The red liquid was trailing behind them as they dragged themself against the floor, making a mess, but they paid no mind._

 _Once they were finally close enough to the body, they reached over and pulled the hood down just enough to see its face, and a choked gasp escaped their mouth._

 _"Mama..." they whispered, taking note of the red coating her face and the stains all across her body._

 _The body looked weak, pale, dead even, but even still, their mother's head slumped over her shoulder to look at them. And then she did something almost impossible—she smiled at them._

 _Her hand shook as she reached up to touch their cheek, and they didn't even realize they were crying until she wiped underneath their eyes. Their mother tugged them forward, no matter how much it hurt, and wrapped her arms around them. She didn't say anything, and neither did they._

 _They felt their body getting weaker and weaker, and their breath was leaving them in heaved gasps. Their eyelids were heavy, and drooping over their eyes slowly. They focused on the hand shakily brushing through their hair, letting themself slump against their mother's body._

 _There were distant footsteps, and their vision was blurry, but they could make out the garbled form of small feet walking up to them. A cold hand touched their forehead, and it was soothing and relaxing and they felt themself slipping further and further into the light, but..._

 _"No." It was the voice from earlier, the boy who had screamed the word to them. The boy who had stopped the tar from taking them._

 _They parted their lips, throat suddenly feeling incredibly dry. Something leaned down, and then there was breathing against their ear._

 _"You can't die yet."_

* * *

"Sans."

Sans jumped at the sudden sternness of Toriel's voice through the receiver. He put the phone to his ear, and frowned. "What is it?"

Toriel fumbled with her words for a moment, and it sounded like she was keeping herself from saying something. But, she relented, and asked, "Do you happen to know anything about... something called 'Gaster'?"

The question made him freeze, and he broke out into a sweat like he had just stepped into a blistering heat.

"...I might," he replied slowly.

Toriel let out deep breath. "I need you to tell me everything you know."

Today was _not_ going to be a lovely day.

* * *

 **FUCK im sorry this was pretty short but i wanted to make it... ominous? mysterious? but i think i failed on that so rip**

 **theres not many chapters left... im estimating there to be around 2-4 left**

 **(shit is gonna go down, y'all)**


	8. Chapter 8

It was pitch black in the room.

Frisk stared up at the ceiling blankly, their mind void of any notable thoughts. Their eyes were glazed with disinterest—they weren't tired yet. But they failed to convince Toriel to let them stay up, so they were stuck in their bed after the second time of being caught out of bed.

Out of the corner of their eye, they saw a flash of red.

The curtains suddenly fluttered open, the window slamming open with a loud thud, and Frisk startled, sitting straight up. Moonlight flooded in the room, and the chill wind made goosebumps rise to Frisk's arms.

Then there was a glitter, and Frisk looked across the room to see Chara standing there with a determined look. The moonlight gleamed against their glowing form, their eyes brighter than anything else in the room.

Frisk stared at them for a moment, silent. Then they turned to grab something out from the drawer of the side table beside the bed. They fumbled inside for a moment, struggling to look inside. But then they turned back around, and gave Chara a hard gaze.

They held out an unopened bar of chocolate.

* * *

"Listen... Tori, I don't really know a whole lot about the whole Gaster thing," Sans sighed into the phone (calming down a frantic Toriel was never easy). "He's just... well..."

"You used to work with Alphys in her scientific work, correct?" Toriel asked quickly, catching Sans by surprise. "She once mentioned something about dabbling in the paranormal side of science when some odd results continued to appear across her data."

"...Well," Sans coughed into his fist. "Yeah, but—"

"Sans. Please tell me." Toriel sounded on the verge of tears. "I am afraid Frisk might be in danger, and..." She noticeably hesitated, and swallowed. "I feel... that Chara and Asriel may be involved somehow."

"W-what?" Sans stammered, blinking. "But... they're both dead—"

"Please," Toriel said again, and Sans inwardly winced at his choice of words. "I need you to tell me what you know."

Sans took a deep breath, looked around to make sure nobody was around, and quietly murmured, "Alright. But you have to keep this secret, okay?"

"Of course," Toriel said firmly, and her word was gold.

Sans bit on his lip, tapping his fingers against the couch cushion. He made sure Papyrus wasn't home (he was probably out somewhere with Mettaton), and then sighed into the phone. "Gaster is the name of an ancient demon."

He could hear Toriel's gasp, and he wondered if he should leave out some things in order to sugarcoat it, but decided against it on the account that she wouldn't appreciate it.

"He has many names throughout the literature and accounts he's featured in, but the name that stands out the most out of all is _Gaster_ ," he continued, dropping his playful tone and replacing it with a more serious one. "He's, well, kinda a legend. Some tales say he was a wizard who was killed on the accusation of witchcraft, some say he was a human who was sacrificed to the gods by being thrown in a volcano, and some say he is the Antichrist..." Sans bit the inside of his cheek. "Nobody really knows _what_ or _who_ he is, but he's there.

"When me 'n Alphys worked together for a bit, she started showing me her documents with the weirdest things appearing all over it. Almost like glitches, or something. We tried looking into them, but nothing made sense, and we couldn't figure out using scientific means. So Alphys suggested digging into the paranormal side of the world, and I thought it was crazy at first, but then we started reading into demons and ghosts and ancient sacrifices, and... a lot of the stuff started to make sense."

Toriel was quiet, soaking in all the information in.

"Eventually, we figured that this weird glitch in data had something to do with a demon or something that was messing with the natural force of the world, and we tried to dig into it more, but then..." He hesitated. "One day, the lab was suddenly on fire. It was like... a bunch of black tar appeared out of nowhere, and then lit on fire. The entire lab was in flames, and me n' Alphys just barely managed to make it out. Nothing survived, and the entire lab was destroyed. After that, I kind of... drifted away from science work."

"Yes," Toriel said, acknowledging his words and urging him to continue.

"I dunno if Alphys is still looking into this stuff, but if she is, she's probably your next best bet." Sans sighed slowly, clenching his fists. He hadn't dug into his past like that since... well, since it all happened. "Why do you wanna know about this dark stuff, anyway?"

Toriel took a deep breath, and Sans could hear shuffling through the phone. "They believe Frisk's parents were involved with Gaster," she replied, her voice shaky. "There is an overwhelming amount of evidence behind it. They told me that Frisk's parents may have been part of something called... the 'Gaster Followers'."

"...Oh." Yikes. Sans wasn't sure what to say, so he bit his tongue, hoping she would say something else. When she didn't, Sans swallowed. "The kid doesn't know about this stuff?"

"Apparently not," Toriel replied. "They have mentioned that their parents have brought them to their... 'meetings', but it does not seem they knew what was going on."

"Huh. The kid's asleep right now, right?"

"Yes. Though I caught them awake and watching television twice now."

Sans chuckled. "Sounds like someone I know." He immediately regretted his words as soon as he said them. "Or... knew."

"Ah... yes," Toriel whispered, and it sounded like she was remembering something. Sans could practically hear the fond smile in her voice. "Chara would always convince Asriel to stay up all night with them... telling scary stories and playing with their toys even though it was a school night..." Then Sans could hear the smile fall, and Toriel let out a slow sigh. "I miss them."

"... Me too," Sans admitted. "Although... I didn't know them that well."

Toriel's laugh was void of emotion. "I believe you would have adored them."

Sans swallowed, and nodded, even though she couldn't see it. "Yeah. Probably."

* * *

"A-ah, T-Toriel, it's a bit late, isn't it...?" Alphys stammered into the phone.

Toriel nodded, though through the phone it was useless. "Yes, but I have something important to ask of you."

That didn't seem to help Alphys' nerves, for she only started stuttering and fumbling more. "O-o-oh, wh-what is it?"

"Sans mentioned something called 'Gaster' to me, and he suggested that I should ask you about it."

There was the sound of something being dropped, and Toriel didn't realize that Alphys had dropped the phone until she picked up and yelped in shock into the phone. "S-sorry! I-it just startled me..." She gulped. "S-so, G-Gaster, huh? Why... why do you want to know about it...?"

"I prefer to let you know later. I need to know as soon as possible," Toriel replied, using what Sans called her _mom voice_ to soothe Alphys' nerves. It seemed to work, because when Toriel heard Alphys' slow exhale through the receiver, she smiled calmly.

"O-okay," Alphys replied, and she left the phone for a moment to grab what sounded like papers. "Um... I haven't done a whole lot of research about it lately, but after..." She bit her tongue. "O-okay, um... l-let's see..." She breathed slowly as she flipped through the papers. "W-well, I would classify this Gaster to be closer to an anomaly more than anything."

"'Anomaly'?" Toriel repeated, raising her eyebrows. "How so?"

"Well, um... it doesn't really have the normal characteristics of a typical demon in supernatural and paranormal accounts," Alphys replied, and Toriel was astounded at the fact that her nervousness suddenly disappeared. "There are many types of demons listed in fiction—like incubi, shapeshifters, Hell Hounds, but... this Gaster isn't like anything I can find."

"Really?"

"Y-Yeah. Um, he seems to be shown worshiped a lot. Almost like a god..." Alphys sounded like she was frowning. "And... great lengths are gone to worship him. L-like, sacrifices, rituals, blood oaths..."

"Gaster Followers," Toriel mumbled, drawing a startled noise out of Alphys.

"Y-Yeah, them... how do you know?"

"There is evidence that Frisk's parents may have been part of them; perhaps even leaders."

"O-oh dear," Alphys coughed, and then took a deep breath. "Um... I don't know a whole lot, and I wish I did, but—"

"Anything you can give me is greatly appreciated," Toriel interrupted, breaking Alphys off of more nervous rambling before she could even get started.

Alphys cleared her throat, and there was the sound of more flipping and page shuffling. "A-alright, well, in most photos and writings of Gaster and his followers, it depicts seven sacrifices, all seemingly very young. Like children, maybe. And... a _lot_ of black tar. There's also a few blurry photos of dead bodies with this black tar spilling from their mouths and eyes—ugh, this picture is _gross_ —and, um, weird chants I guess?"

"Is that it?"

"...Y-yes," Alphys replied almost sheepishly.

Toriel nodded. "Alright. Thank you, Alphys."

"A-ah, you're welcome!"

* * *

It was cold. Very, very cold. But they could hardly see anything.

Images passed by their eyes. Images of a boy with a striped shirt and a bright smile. Images of another child standing beside him, with glowing red eyes and the rest of their face blurred out. They were usually shown playing together, but sometimes images of the two standing by two taller figures appeared.

Then their vision was filled with red, and the cold wind blasted at their eyes and sprung wetness. They blinked, trying to keep it out, but it was like they were walking straight towards it.

It was like they were being pushed back, but not all the way, and they remained on the left while something else was on the right. Like a presence. A person. What was it?

They couldn't tell, but they knew it was there. They tried to greet it, but there was no response.

The only thing they could feel and hear was the cold wind.

* * *

 _Their vision was filled with white, black figures zooming past them and faces blurred out. Their eyes were blank, their body wouldn't move. They couldn't feel anything._

 _Where were they? What was going on?_

 _Someone was talking, but who was it? What was happening? What were they saying?_

 _More voices, something being pressed into their mouth, but they ignored it. They wanted to close their eyes, go to sleep, but something was telling them not to. Something was holding them back from stepping into the bright light that blinded them. But it was so pretty, and they wanted to walk through, but the force keeping them behind was getting stronger and stronger._

 _They were determined._

 _Their vision went black only seconds later, and when they opened their eyes again, they were in a hospital room, with two men dressed in suits sitting in the chairs by the bed._

 _Social workers, they said they were, and they were here to help them._

 _They decided not to question it._

* * *

There was something looming in the distance—big, black, and ominous. It was surrounded in mist, and the closer they got to it, the larger it seemed, and the more familiar it was.

Only half of them could recall. It was a building, rundown and falling apart. The doors were broken, and there was police tape surrounded parts of it. But they ignored it, apparently, and something made them crawl between the tape and walk inside.

Nobody was inside, save for the leftover police investigation stuff they couldn't tell what it was. There was a ruined black circle in the center, as well as white dust and red splatters across the room.

They almost panicked once they realized where they were, and they were about to bolt out, but something was keeping them in place, preventing them from going anywhere. Whatever was controlling them gazed across the room, and finally their eyes landed on the black circle in the center of the room.

"They're all still here," they heard themself say. But it wasn't them, was it? It was their voice, but the tone. The way it was said. It wasn't them. So who was it?

"Chara?" they asked breathlessly, throat hurting.

But there was no reply. They still had a feeling they were right.

* * *

Toriel picked at a hangnail on her finger worriedly, chewing on her lower lip. Sure, Frisk was supposed to be asleep, but maybe they had tried to get out of bed again. The call with Alphys made her more anxious than anything else, and she walked out of her room and heading towards the living room.

The TV was still off, and there was no sign of Frisk being in there at all. Satisfied, she started to walk back towards her room, but then she noticed the light coming from Frisk's room. Clicking her tongue, she slowly opened it, prepared to scold the child for staying up so late, but her mouth went dry as she looked inside.

Frisk wasn't inside.

The window was wide open, the curtains blowing wildly from the cold wind outside, and the moonlight was much brighter than it should be as it illuminated the room. The bedsheets were mussed and tousled, and there was a half-eaten bar of chocolate on the ground.

Toriel put her hands to her mouth to suppress a gasp.

"Not again," she whispered, before rushing towards her phone to call anyone, everyone.

She was not going to lose another one.

* * *

 **either next chapter is going to be the last and it'll be really long or there'll be two more that'll be split up**

 **idk yet**

 **(i cant believe this fic is almost over omg i havent finished a fic in forever)**


	9. Chapter 9

**it all goes to hell**

* * *

 _"...we can play the one Japanese game," they laughed, pointing their pinky at their brother with the hand holding the bar of chocolate they snuck from the kitchen. "I forgot what it's called. K-something-san. Like a ghost game."_

 _"Like Charlie Charlie?" their brother guessed._

 _They shook their head. "No, like... an Ouija board, but Japanese."_

 _"Kokkuri-san?"_

 _They clapped their hands together and grinned. "Yes!" they exclaimed, taking another bite of their chocolate bar. "Exactly."_

 _Their brother snickered, leaning back against the wall, shifting to get himself comfortable on his sibling's bed. "Can't you die from an Ouija board? There's movies about this, you know."_

 _"Nuh-uh," their sibling protested. "I read somewhere that Kokkuri-san is, like, much safer than an actual Ouija board."_

 _He raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. They probably read it on the internet, or something._ _"What time is it?" he asked, noting the moon sitting high in the night sky. "It looks pretty late."_

 _Their sibling shrugged, and turned to look at the digital clock on the side table. "2 AM," they replied, and grinned. "What do you think'll happen if Mom catches us awake?"_

 _He pursed his lips, scratching at his dark hair. "Mm, I dunno. It is a school night. She'll probably be angry for, like, 0.2 seconds and then lecture us."_

 _"True," they replied, and the two burst into laughter. Once it died down, they flashed their brother a sly grin. "You wanna go out and watch the stars?"_

 _"In the tree?" he asked, and when their sibling nodded, he smiled. "Sure!"_

* * *

Everyone that knew Toriel knew Frisk was missing within the next half hour. She called up everyone before calling the police, cursing out loud when they decided to put her on hold.

Sans was the first to arrive, followed by his brother, then Mettaton, then Undyne and Alphys. They all watched as Toriel practically sobbed into the phone, begging the police to find her child and return them safely to her. Nobody dared to mention the last time a situation like this had happened, although everyone knew it was passing through their minds collectively.

"They said they will be here in half an hour," Toriel murmured. "I wish I did not live so far away from the police station."

Sans and Mettaton took a seat on either side of her, Mettaton rubbing at her back soothingly and Sans taking her hand and squeezing it.

"The kid's gonna be fine, Tori," he said, but the tremor in his voice betrayed him. Either Toriel didn't notice, or she did and refused to acknowledge it.

"Do you know where they might've gone?" Undyne asked, kneeling down to look Toriel in the eye. The couch was already taken up, anyway.

Toriel shook her head, wiping at her eyes. "No... I... I have no idea," she stammered. "D-Do you think this may have something to do with their condition? Maybe... maybe they hallucinated something outside and decided to run after it... or..." She trailed off, and you could practically see the worst-case scenarios flooding her mind behind her eyes.

"Hey," Sans said quickly. "Calm down. It's gonna be okay."

"Yes!" Papyrus whisper-yelled, trying to lower his voice to fit the serious context. "We are going to find Frisk!"

"Wait, what," Undyne deadpanned as Papyrus suddenly grabbed her by the shoulder and lifted her up. "Wait, you're being serious?"

"Of course," Mettaton sighed, rubbing his temples and standing up from the couch.

"Undyne, you can drive right?" Papyrus asked excitedly.

Undyne raised an eyebrow, and then nodded slowly. She was suddenly pushed by Alphys, and the latter gave her a frightened stare before stammering out, "U-um, I don't think l-letting Undyne drive is a... good idea."

Undyne didn't even argue; she just gave a casual shrug.

"Oh my God I'll drive," Mettaton said, and then stopped. "Wait, drive where?"

"Well..." Alphys mumbled, and everyone turned to her. "T-There's a possibility that Frisk m-may have gone to... the hospital. Or somewhere th-they remember."

Sans frowned, tapping his fingers against his leg. "Somewhere they remember..." he muttered to himself, deep in thought. And then it hit him, and he jumped to his feet. "Tori, in Frisk's file, it mentioned something about an abandoned building near the mountain, right?"

"...Yes," Toriel replied slowly, narrowing her glassy eyes suspiciously.

Mettaton snapped his fingers and pointed at Sans. "That's it. They could've gone there."

"Y-you mean, they... went _back_ to where..." Alphys mumbled, her eyes widening. "Then... the data... I-I—" She cut herself off once Sans gave her a look, and her breath left her chest almost in slow motion. "Oh my _God_."

"Mettaton, you know where the mountain is, yeah?"

The man in question nodded. "Yes, just up the road, right?"

Sans nodded once. "Alright. I'll go with you guys."

"I'm coming!" Papyrus shouted, although he was the one to suggest the idea in the first place, and he cackled when Undyne locked an arm around his shoulders and grinned as a declaration of her assistance.

"I-I'm going, too," Alphys said, and Undyne squeezed her hand to reassure her.

"Tori, are you coming?" Sans asked, turning back towards said woman, who appeared to be crying again.

Toriel hesitated before shaking her head. "No... I... I will stay here, and wait for the police to arrive. If you find anything, call me immediately." The answer wasn't really unexpected, and the others nodded at her before rushing out the door.

"WE'RE COMING FOR YOU, FRISK!" Undyne and Papyrus shouted to the heavens.

* * *

"Wh..." Frisk whispered as they groggily opened their eyes. The room was dark and the only lights provided were lamps lit on either side of the large room and the moonlight flooding in, and they squinted to allow their vision to adjust to the blackness.

When they managed to steady their eyes, Frisk tried to adjust themself to their surroundings, but then they stopped themself once they felt the restraint of rope tied around their wrists. Panic rose in their chest, and their breath caught in their throat as they struggled. The burn of the rope against their wrists began to sting, and they kicked at the floor, realizing that they were tied fully around a large chair in front of something on the floor. Their feet dangled over the ground, and they leaned over to see a large black circle. The smell of fresh paint was heavy in the air, and Frisk went pale.

They were back.

"No..." they wheezed, tears rising to the corners of their eyes as they darted their head around, pulling and yanking against their restraints. But unfortunately, being very young and frail, they were very small and weak, and the only good that struggling gave them was scooting the chair closer to the black circle (which, in fact, was not very good at all).

Something suddenly appeared in front of them, and they almost screamed, catching the noise in their throat by clenching their jaw to avoid risking anything. It was a person—small, transparent, and almost glowing. They had messy red-brown hair, and glowing crimson eyes that seemed like they could illuminate the room. Wind trickled in through the broken windows, making their hair blow around their face.

"Chara..." Frisk realized, breathless. "Wh-Wha... is happening?" Their throat felt tight, and their voice was thin.

Chara tilted their head, blinking almost innocently at the tied-up child. " _You may not know, but I'm sure you have an idea,_ " they replied, voice echoing ghostly through the empty room.

"What...? N-No..." They struggled against the ropes even more, fighting to ignore the burning on their wrists, and they were sure there would be red marks left behind later.

" _Don't you see?_ " Chara whispered, folding their hands behind their back and leaning in. "Y _ou were meant for this, Frisk. This is what you were made for._ " They spoke as if it was obvious, and Frisk tried desperately not to listen. Chara frowned, and then grabbed them by the jaw, grip tightening almost painfully. " _Even your shitty, idiotic parents knew that much._ "

"No!" Frisk shouted, suddenly finding their voice, and took a deep breath to keep themself from crying. " _NO!_ GO AWAY! LEAVE ME _ALONE!_ "

" _I thought you wanted to be friends._ "

"I-I... no... _please_..."

" _We're going to be best friends, soon. Maybe..._ " Chara started, and an unsightly grin settled on their face. " _...maybe we'll even be as close as siblings._ "

* * *

 _One day, the two siblings were walking home from school together when they found a large tree. It had many branches and was easy to climb, and once the two got to the top, they were granted with a perfect view of the sky._

 _Later that night, they returned to the tree, hopping over the fence of their house and climbing to the top. The night sky was dazzling—stars written across the sky, the moonlight twinkling and reflecting off the world, airplanes that could be easily mistaken for shooting stars at first glance whirring through the black. They stayed there all night, pointing out constellations and making up their own, until eventually their father caught them outside at nearly four in the morning, and promptly sent them back to bed._

 _Luckily, that night was a weekend, so they didn't get in as much trouble as they could've._

 _Every so often, the two siblings would return to the tree at night, sometimes during the setting sun, to marvel at the stars and talk about everything and anything; sometimes ranging from aliens outside the earth to the purpose of life and death._

 _Like now._

 _Their brother was the first to start climbing, half to inspect if there were any broken branches and half to race to the top. His sibling followed, beating him by a hair, and they took their place at the top. He wouldn't be surprised if the highest branches has imprints of themselves on them. (That would be rad, he figured. Maybe in the future two siblings like themselves would come and sit in the same exact place, find constellations in the same exact place, talk about the same exact things. The thought made him wonder about the future, so he turned and asked his sibling about it.)_

 _"What do you think life will be like in the future?"_

 _His sibling looked away from the moon and to him, their red eyes glowing in the night. Then they grinned. "Robots. Talking robots. Maybe even performance ones."_

 _He scoffed. "I mean, like, life for us."_

 _"I'll probably be married to a robot," they replied, the atmosphere not ready for a serious conversation just yet. Then they backtracked, and pursed their lips. "Well, no, I don't think I'm ever going to get married."_

 _He tilted his head curiously. "Why not?"_

 _They shrugged. "Looks like a hassle. Plus a lot of couples end in divorce, and if they have kids, it just... ruins things." They pouted childishly. "And weddings cost a lot of money. You know what I could do with that amount!?"_

 _"Buy more chocolate?" he guessed._

 _His sibling smirked, and pointed a finger at him. "You know me well."_

 _He laughed, leaning back against the branch, and rubbed at his arms. "Mm... I think I'm gonna get married someday. Probably to someone really pretty, and we'll have really pretty kids."_

 _"I'll be the weird... 'auncle,'" his sibling said, pausing to make up a new word to call themself. "Yeah! I'll be the cool one in the family, and all your kids will be like, 'When can we hang out with them again?'" They made their voice higher to mock a young child's voice (despite the fact that they themself were, actually, a young child as well)._

 _"You can show my kids the tree."_

 _Their eyes sparkled, as if they hadn't even thought of the idea. "Yeah! Let's make it a tradition. We need a cool name for this tree, though."_

 _He shrugged. "You have any ideas?"_

 _"...'The Tree'."_

 _He stared at them, as if asking Are you serious?_

 _They snickered at his look, and shoved his shoulder lightly. "Leaving it ominous! If we give it a specific name then the tree won't be special anymore. We have to leave it mysterious."_

 _"Is 'We have to leave it mysterious' your life motto?" he deadpanned, rolling his eyes._

 _"Maybe," they mumbled offhandedly, despite the rhetorical question._

 _They sat in silence for a while, and then he turned his head once he heard a long, drawn-out sigh from his sibling. "I hope I'm taller in the future," they said, pouting. "With manageable hair. And a cool car."_

 _"Your goals seem pretty simple."_

 _They shrugged nonchalantly. "I guess," they said, and turned to face him. "I still got a long of time to decide, though."_

 _He opened his mouth, ready to reply, but then a sudden whir of an engine roared loudly, interrupting the peacefulness of the night. The two siblings jumped up, seeing headlights in the distance, muffled voices coming from who knows where._

 _"Nobody's ever around here..." his sibling whispered, crawling further into the leaves as if to hide themself. He just watched them, furrowing his brows as he turned from them to the headlights._

* * *

"Siblings... what...?" Frisk let their head fall, staring at their lap with blurred vision. Their eyes felt hot, and they didn't realize tears were falling until they saw them patter onto their dirty pajama pants, darkening the fabric.

Chara turned their back to them, looking down at the strange black circle. " _To think your parents would be so stupid..._ " they whispered, and Frisk lifted their head at the mention of their parents. " _At least they had the right idea. But, God, were they clueless._ "

"My parents...?" Frisk whispered, trying to lean forward. "What... what about them?"

Chara glanced back over their shoulder. " _I'm not even sure they knew what they were doing, keeping you in the corner while they did their work._ " They sighed, and shook their head, clenching their jaw. " _Maybe they wanted to warm you up to the presence of the supernatural._ " Biting the inside of their cheek, Chara gave a dry laugh. " _Well, whatever they did, it made you extremely sensitive to the supernatural._ "

"W-What? How?"

" _While bringing you here, I took a look inside your memories,_ " Chara said casually. " _Ever since you were born your parents brought you to this place, kept you in the same corner, not giving you any protection to ward off evil..._ " What were they talking about? They weren't making any sense. " _A child's mind is easily corruptible. Ghosts and demons of all kinds tried to break through you, but they couldn't. Your life was kept yours because of only one thing..._ "

"...What?" They were almost afraid to know the answer.

Chara grinned. " _Schizophrenia. A brain disorder in which people interpret reality abnormally._ "

That's what the doctors always told them that's what they had. They still didn't get it.

" _Your parents were probably aware of your condition, but they made no move to treat it, letting it fester in your mind until it became as severe as it is now,_ " Chara said. " _Your condition prevented you from being possessed, but it didn't keep the spirits from affecting you through other means._ " Before Frisk could ask them to elaborate, they grinned and continued. " _Their presence slowly affected you, making you sensitive to the supernatural. In other words, you're something akin to a medium. If you really wanted to, you could tap into the otherworld and contact ghosts who have already passed on._ "

Words, words, words. They went in Frisk's ear and left through the other. They were so confused. What was Chara going to do to them?

They just wanted to go home.

" _On the day your father died_ "—now _that_ caught Frisk's attention—" _your parents were trying to summon the demon god Gaster. They've attempted many times before, but to no avail. But on this specific attempt, they came so close that the consequences were severe, and it resulted in getting them all killed._ " Chara knelt down in front of the floor and ran their wispy fingers through the red liquid on the ground, now dried. " _You almost died, too. It's a miracle that you're alive as of right now._ "

Frisk leaned their head back against the chair, curling their toes nervously.

" _To summon the demon god, you need seven sacrifices, all young and missing some component of being a perfect human,_ " Chara whispered, and then lowered their voice to something that could be described as terrifying, " _but they only used six._ "

The six bags the members brought in came immediately to mind, and Frisk felt like they were going to vomit.

" _You could've been the seventh, and it would've worked, but everyone was too stupid to realize that,_ " Chara laughed. " _Well, I suppose it worked out in my favor. After all, I need a vessel for what I'm going to do._ "

"'Vessel'...?" Frisk whispered, and nausea was rising in their throat steadily. Maybe they really were going to vomit. "How... how do you know all this stuff about me?"

" _Your memories didn't give me anything other than your point of view, but there's something else._ " Chara looked around the room, and twirled on one foot with a cackle. " _I was there! I watched it all happen!_ "

" _What?!_ " Frisk almost hissed.

" _I was stuck in that hideous building, vainly hoping that someone would appear with me,_ " Chara growled, eyes suddenly turning as black as the black tar Frisk knew all too well. " _I watched failed attempt after failed attempt, I watched sacrifice after sacrifice falling into the otherworld to suffer as a result of their captor's mistakes. I watched as those STUPID people kept killing more and more innocent kids just so they could have their precious god._ " It almost sounded like they were crying, and Frisk's face softened. " _But then! You survived! And you were leaving with Toriel, so I attached myself to your soul and followed you around. You think I decided to appear to you for no reason!?_ "

Frisk opened their mouth, but Chara interrupted them.

" _I started to warm you up to the feeling of a ghostly presence surrounding you, and showed you small memories to prepare yourself for the onslaught of memories that will come soon. I thought you were the perfect vessel for my plans. I even managed to share control of your body with you to bring you here! Maybe you'll even manage to stick around!_ " Chara's voice was getting breathless, and the grin stretched across their face was anything but joyful. It made Frisk think of their mother, who smiled and laughed even in grief.

"A vessel..." Frisk repeated slowly. "A vessel for what!?"

" _You heard Toriel, right? I used to be her child,_ " Chara breathed out. " _Me and my brother. We were best friends, inseparable. But we died, and now I'm stuck like this while he's stuck in the otherworld, trapped with all the other sacrifices wrongly used._ "

Frisk's eyes widened. "You..." Their eyes shifted from Chara's face to the black circle.

Chara squeezed their eyes shut, and clenched their fists. " _Enough wasting time! By now someone has noticed you missing, so I'm going to do this fast._ "

It was like Frisk had been punched in the stomach, the way their breath left them. "D-do _what!?_ " they cried.

Chara didn't reply. They ignored Frisk as they stepped forward, until they were in the exact center of the large black circle. They rose their arms, baring their hands like claws, and a light laugh soon left them. Their mouth was moving rapidly, but Frisk didn't hear anything. They were saying something, but Frisk couldn't hear it.

Because it wasn't meant for them.

Six parts of the black circle began to light up, glowing a bright white that blinded Frisk and forced them to turn their head away. They struggled to keep their eyes open to watch Chara's movements, and six differently colored beams of light shot from the floor and danced against the ceiling.

Frisk looked at them in awe. _Teal, orange, blue, purple, green, and yellow._

When they looked back at Chara, they screamed.

Chara's face was a mess. Their eyes and mouth were melting black, hair in a mess more than it already was, clothes rippling in the heavy wind. Fog surrounded them, floating through their body, and Chara's jaw began to move up and down like they were laughing.

" _You're going to be a vessel for my late brother._ "

* * *

 **only one chapter left.**


	10. Chapter 10

***It's the end.**

* * *

 _The headlights were drawing closer and closer, and with each second, the further his sibling drew back into the bushes._

 _He climbed further down the tree, seating himself on one of the lower branches, and tried to lean over to get a better look at the approaching vehicle. It was a black van, from what he could see, with two hard-to-see figures running alongside it._

 _They were getting closer and closer and he was sure that they were just going to drive by the tree and do whatever it was they were going to do, but—_

 _"Over there?"_

 _He blanched, face going pale, and squeaked as he saw the headlights turning towards the tree. His sibling called out to him, reached out their hand, yelling his name to try and grab his attention but it was too late. Those people had seen him, and maybe even his sibling too, and they were coming straight for him._

 _The people running by the vehicle were fast and desperate. They were holding something small in their hands, but he couldn't tell what it was just from where he was sitting._

 _The vehicle parked underneath the tree and there were faint cries of "Get them!" and "There's another one higher up!" and "I'll get the van ready!" He felt his stomach twist as three other people hopped out of the van, two leaving towards the back to open the trunk and the third joining the other two starting to climb the tree._

 _"C'mon!" his sibling urged, and this time, he took their hand and let them pull him higher up the tree. He stumbled, losing his footing on one of the branches and nearly falling back, but then his sibling used their other hand to grip the back of his sweater and pull him up the rest of the way until they were both poorly-concealed in the bushes. His sibling gave him a pointed look, pressing their index finger to their pursed lips, and he gulped before nodding._

 _The people below were whisper-yelling to each other, two trying to climb the tree while the third not busy with the trunk was shining a flashlight up into the leaves. His sibling cursed under their breath, trying to use their arms to cover their faces, and then yanked on his collar to drag him backwards._

 _"We'll have to make a run for it," they said urgently, glancing behind them to make sure there was no one who could catch them from behind._

 _He gulped, but nodded, and his sibling grasped his hand tightly before shuffling towards the edge of the branch and hopping off._

 _"Hey!" a voice yelled, but neither of them were listening._

 _The two grabbed onto each other as they ran, looking up at the fence that separated them from the safety of their home. He ran forward, sliding against the fence and letting his sibling climb on him. They hesitated, gulping, but nodded once and used him as leverage to lean onto the fence. They pressed their weight against the edge, nearly making it over, but then something crashed into them from behind and would've sent them falling forward if it were not for the thick arms behind wrapped around their waist._

 _They panicked, kicking their legs back and managing to send their captor falling behind when they elbowed their stomach. They heard a grunt, followed by a thud, and they panted as they frantically darted around. Their brother was nowhere to be seen, void from his previous spot against the fence._

 _Then they heard a call of their name followed by a scream, and they looked ahead to see their brother fighting and struggling in the arms of two large people dressed in_ _cloaks, and the two were running towards the van and shouting something but all that was filling their ears was white noise and they couldn't see anything but red._

 _"NO NO NO DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH HIM."_

 _The captor they had originally knocked over was back on their feet, and tackled them to the ground with a sudden force. They choked as their back harshly collided with the ground, coughing in an attempt to catch their breath, and then they were rendered helpless as a pair of gloved hands pressed into their neck and blocked their airways. They spluttered, gripping onto their captor's wrists and doing anything they could to get them away_ _—kicking, scratching, spitting, punching_ _—but their captor quickly overpowered them and soon the world went dark just as a terrified shriek met their ears._

* * *

Mettaton let out a slow, anxious breath. "Is this it?" he asked softly, looking at the building with a worried gaze. He couldn't see anything from the outside, and the fog that surrounded the dark, bleary building and the police tape lined across it made him gulp.

"Yeah," Sans replied quietly, and stepped out of the car. The others followed, and one by one they hesitantly approached the building.

Alphys took a deep breath, fumbling with the hem of her shirt as her shoulders shook. "T-this, um... it l-looks like something out of a horror movie..."

Undyne took her girlfriend's hand firmly and gave her a determined gaze. "Whatever tries to hurt you," she declared, "I'll fight it."

"YOU CAN'T FIGHT A GHOST, UNDYNE!" Papyrus shouted, and Mettaton grabbed him by the arm and shushed him. Papyrus looked at the others apologetically, and bowed his head. "If you _could_ fight a ghost, however, I'd be glad to assist!" he said, his voice lower but still not as quiet as it could be—but they figured it was best for now.

"How are we supposed to get in?" Mettaton asked, tugging on the door, and frowning. "It's locked. And there's police tape everywhere."

"Oh, yeah," Undyne said, leaning down and inspecting the tape with an oddly curious look. "I guess that _would_ be kinda illegal without the police—wait a second." She stopped, straightening her back and taking a few steps back. Her good eye twinkled with something exciting, and she let out a loud roar. "I _AM_ THE POLICE! I CAN DO WHATEVER I WANT!"

Then she quite literally kicked down the door, releasing a loud cry of, " _NGAAAAHHHH!_ "

* * *

A multitude of lights danced by them, and they squinted uncomfortably when the brightness began to burn and spring more tears to the corners of their eyes. The colored lights moved from shining against the ceiling to wailing and circling around the room drastically, and Chara hadn't moved from their position one bit. If anything, their laughing only became louder and the smudge pouring from their eyes and mouth only increased and was staining their clothes and dripping against the ground.

They could hear voices, and harsh memories were coming to mind, and then there was something touching their body and they jolted, trying to break away from the cold feeling. But it persisted, pressing harder, and when Frisk looked beside them they saw a small figure made of pure teal light, indents in the flame that was like light to form eyes and a mouth. The figure was giving them a hard stare, and then it dissipated and the teal light started screaming and darting across the room again, bouncing off the walls and crashing into the floor over and over like a bouncy ball.

The lights were people. Children, rather, and Frisk's eyes widened at the realization.

"Chara!" they screamed, trying to get their attention, but Chara was already far too deep in what they were doing. Frisk sniffled, trying to scream again, but the buzzing in their ears was getting stronger and the feeling of hands all across their body was too much to handle and the world was fading into black, slowly, so slowly.

Then the lights stopped, and when Frisk managed to lift their head, there were six glowing lights in the form of flaming colored hearts floating around them. And they were closing in, inch by inch.

Chara was still laughing and laughing, and Frisk's eyes widened as the lights began to practically suffocate and press against them, digging into their skin and pressing themselves against them as if to get inside them and possess them or however it was they were supposed to do it and Frisk was crying, screaming, yelling for their mom, for Toriel, and they just wanted to home.

Their vision went white.

* * *

 _"W-wait, what's... what's going on!?"_

 _The sudden terrified gasp snapped them out of their daze, and their eyes shot open just in time to see their brother being thrown into the center of a giant black circle, his body almost light and lifeless as it fell on the ground and didn't move. Their eyes went wide, chest heaving with each breath, and they tried to shout but their throat was dry and throbbing, and their head was spinning with the movements they made to struggle against whoever was holding them._

 _Where were they? What was happening? Where was Mom and Dad?_

 _There was distant crying and they gulped, feeling the hands on them getting rougher as their captor twisted their arms and tossed them in the circle right beside their brother. They gasped, jumping up and struggling with the sudden weakness that overtook them as they trudged forward on their forearms to his side. He was barely conscious, breathing heavily, his hair soaked in what looked like blood but they weren't sure from what. Panic swelled in their chest and a lump formed in their throat as their hands trembled on his body, and they shook him, trying to get him to wake up._

 _Then someone was pulling them apart and they screamed, the noise ripping from their throat hoarsely, and the cloaked figure holding their brother had a knife in their hands and they were struggling in their captor's grip, crying and yelling at their brother. They shouted, telling him to please wake up so they could go home, but he wasn't paying attention and his head rolled on his shoulders as he was pulled into a part of the circle, and placed on his back._

 _They were played on the opposite side of him, being held down by their captor by their throat and legs. "LET HIM GO!" A sob. "PLEASE...!"_

 _Then the one holding their brother lifted the knife and dug it into his stomach._

 _"STOP STOP NO NO NO STOP PLEASE—"_

 _There was a squelching sound, followed by a ear-shattering scream. A flash of red eyes, followed by a growl._

* * *

The door clattered to the ground with a loud thud, and the others jumped from their position behind the determined Undyne. She was still screaming, running into the building with all her might, and Alphys rushed after her nervously.

Inside the building wasn't like anything they expected.

There was Frisk, tied to a chair and motionless, their head hanging forward and their eyes glowing bright white behind their bangs. In front of them was a large black circle, slowly filling with red mist and black tar, and there was someone standing and laughing in the middle of it. None of them could see who it was, and their figure was faint, but they were small and their eyes were red and they looked so _familiar_ but none of them could place a finger on it.

"FRISK!" Papyrus shouted, charging forward immediately, but then he stopped as if something had blocked him and he fell back on the ground. He jumped back up immediately, however, and pressed his hands against the air in confusion.

Undyne frowned and walked up to him, lifting her hands to try and figure out what he was getting at, and once her hands touched an invisible wall, her eyes widened and she whirled around to the others. "It's like a force field!" she called, and banged her fists against it automatically. "Frisk! Dude, can you hear us!?"

It seemed not, for Frisk hadn't moved an inch since they arrived.

" _Shit!_ " Undyne yelled, kicking her foot against the force field. "Someone call Toriel! Tell her Frisk is here!"

Mettaton nodded and pulled out his phone, but once he did, it was suddenly encrusted with a black tar and it hardened automatically, rendering it useless. And when he dropped it to the ground in alarm the tar melted into a black mess on the floor, and he stared in horror and confusion at the leftovers.

"What... what the _hell!?_ " he cried, jumping away from the black mess and stumbling into Sans, whose phone was in a similar state. "I'll bet it's that _thing_ at the circle!" he declared, pointing towards said figure who was still laughing. "Is _that_ what's doing all this to Frisk!?"

"I-I don't even _know_ wh-what's happening!" Alphys stammered, looking like she was about to cry.

Sans thought for a moment, and then gave her a startled glance. "Oh my God," he whispered, gripping onto her shoulder. "The ritual."

"W-What?"

"The ritual!" he repeated louder, over the loud wind and laughing that the figure in the circle was causing. "The one to summon Gaster! I'll bet that's what this is!"

"Oh no..." Alphys whispered shakily, and now she really was crying. "W-What do we do!? How d-do we stop it!?"

Sans opened his mouth to reply, but then he looked back at Frisk who was shaking now, and he bit his lip. "I... don't know."

* * *

The restraints on their arms were suddenly missing, as if they had never been there in the first place. Frisk looked down at their wrists in confusion, and then back up to see the endless white space surrounding them. There were six children standing in a circle around them, each of their clothing bathed in the colors of the lights from before.

The teal one, who had appeared to Frisk earlier, gave them a soft smile. They had a ribbon in their bright orange hair, and their dress was a pale blue. Frisk glanced down at their metal leg that peeked out beneath the dress, and then traveled their gaze back up to the teal child's eyes.

The orange one was shorter, and their skin and hair were very dark. Their eyes were a milky green, and their tank top was colored orange. Atop their hands was a pair of pink boxing gloves. They gave Frisk a rough grin, but they were turned a bit crooked, as if they couldn't see them but knew where they were.

The blue one looked much calmer compared to their counterpart, and seemed to be the tallest and oldest of the six. Their skin was dark but dotted with white spots (the faint word _vitiligo_ appeared in the back of Frisk's mind), their dark brown hair was pulled up into a messy bun, and they were dressed in an old blue ballerina outfit. They gave Frisk a patient smile, waving with the hand that was missing 2 fingers.

The purple child looked anxious, and was even sweating. They had very pale skin, short black hair, and they were dressed in a calm purple and black suit. They tried to hide their face behind their black notebook, sneaking peaks at Frisk every other second as if expecting the worse.

The green one was very pretty. They were almost as tall as the blue one, if not just an inch or two shorter. They had long blonde hair and pretty green eyes, and freckles were dusted across their face and arms and complimented their tanned skin nicely. They were wearing a stained apron atop a shoulder-cut pale green shirt. They held a small piece of paper in their single arm.

Then, finally, the yellow one. They were by far the youngest of the six. Their dark eyes were glassy and their skin was sunkissed, and they were very, very small. Frisk figured they couldn't be older than six, maybe even five. They were dressed in a cowboy outfit that almost looked like a generic Halloween costume, and the faded yellow star on their vest read _Sheriff_ in small letters. Their dirty blonde hair was covered by an old, ragged cowboy hat, and they tilted their head downwards as if they were ashamed.

The blue child was the first to speak. " _You survived,_ " they said, looking practically amazed. " _Even after everything we tried to do to bring you with us... you made it._ "

Frisk blinked, feeling like their voice was familiar. Then it hit them. The voices and the lights and the presences surrounding them when their parents were doing the scary thing with the black circle and ended up taking away the life they knew. It was _them_. The six children. And it was like Chara said—they were supposed to be the seventh.

" _But how?_ " the orange one scoffed, crossing their arms. " _We tried everything..._ "

" _It's... not fair,_ " the purple child mumbled, shaking in their boots. " _You got to live and we... we're stuck d-down here._ "

Frisk gulped, a sudden weight of guilt dropping on their shoulders. " _I..._ " they whispered, fingers trembling as they balled their hands into fists. " _I'm s-so sorry. I-I... I didn't know...I would've... h-helped—_ "

" _Please don't be sorry,_ " the green one said quickly, taking a step forward, clenching the ends of their apron nervously. " _You got to live. That's a good thing! One less victory for those that took us._ "

" _But it was their parents!_ " the orange one protested, pointing at Frisk and giving the green one a dirty glare. " _They probably knew all along what was happening, and yet they did NOTHING!_ "

" _Stop!_ " the teal one gasped, cutting their arm through the air like a sickle and frowning in disappointment. They shifted their weight to their other leg and sighed. " _Fighting like this is going to solve nothing. We all know why we're here._ "

The six children turned to stare at Frisk, and the latter blinked in confusion.

"...We do?" they mumbled softly, folding their hands behind their back and scratching at their wrists. Even if the ropes weren't there, they could feel the faint sensation of it rubbing against their skin.

" _The laughing child wants us to bring back their brother,_ " the blue one said, looking away guiltily. " _They are... promising us freedom if we help._ "

" _How can they know how to free us?_ " the orange child scoffed, but bit their tongue when the blue child held up their hand to silence them.

" _But we cannot bring back their brother with just us. We have too little,_ " the blue child continued, glancing up at Frisk nervously and then back down. " _We need your help._ "

"I..." Frisk coughed into their fist, their throat suddenly going dry in anticipation. "But wasn't I supposed to be...?"

" _The vessel, yes... but, to be a vessel, only the body is needed._ " The blue one swallowed, anxiously picking at their fingers and clasping their hands together in front of their chest. " _We'll need the added power of your soul to help bring back the laughing child's brother._ "

"Chara..." Frisk whispered. Their legs suddenly felt weak. _This_ had been Chara's plan all along. They were _never_ Frisk's friend, they were _never_ actually being nice to them through their own volition. And yet, despite everything, it was like it was all their fault. They owed it to the six children for living, didn't they?

The blue child held out their hand, a frantic look on their face. They turned, glancing over at the yellow child and observing the nervous smile twitching at the corners of their mouth. " _There isn't much time,_ " the blue one whispered, narrowing their eyes. " _We must hurry before he comes._ "

"Who's 'he'?" Frisk couldn't help but ask.

All six children stiffened automatically. And, simultaneously, they answered,

" _Gaster._ "

The white of the area was beginning to darken, black tar spilling over invisible cracks and flooding the floor. It made their feet all stick the ground, rendering their legs useless as they struggled. None of them could move their bodies, and Frisk's breath caught in their throat as they tugged at their skin, feeling like if they pulled any harder they would rip it off, and then they looked up at the blue child to see them desperately reaching out for them.

" _Take my hand!_ " they exclaimed.

So Frisk did, and the tar was all but suffocated all seven.

* * *

 _The next time they opened their eyes, they were standing. And the room was empty._

 _All that was left was them, the black circle, and the large goop of black tar hovering over them. It towered, moving and gurgling with each passing second, and they let their red eyes scan over it curiously._

 _The monstrosity began to speak, even though they couldn't see a mouth, and what looked like hands were protruding from its gurgling body and were moving, but they didn't understand. They simply stared as the black tar leaked from its body and curled up on the ground, snaking along the surface until it reached their feet. They looked down, absentmindedly kicking it away with their sneakers, and glared up at the monstrosity above them._

 _"I don't understand," they whispered casually, a sly grin forming on their face, only for it to disappear as soon as they turned around. They ignored the rest of the monster's cries and outbursts as they walked outside, and even though the wind was blowing and snow was falling, they didn't feel any chill at all. The door slammed shut behind them, and they looked down at their hands._

 _They were transparent._

 _They blinked in surprise, eyes going wide, and looked all around their body only to discover that, in fact, the rest of them was see-through as well. They idly wondered if they should go back inside and ask the monster for answers, but then they decided against it, and simply chose to lean against the outside wall of the building. They slid down the wall, plopping in the snow even though their presence didn't even make a dent in it, and pulled their knees to their chest._

 _Out of the corner of their eye, they thought they saw their brother calling out for them. But when they turned, there was no one there._

 _The realization hit them like a bullet._

 _Their brother was tossed in the black circle, and then they were right after. Then... then those people killed him. They stabbed him. After that, well... they didn't really know what else happened after that. They assumed they died soon after, too, but there weren't any visible marks on their skin. Maybe causes of death didn't show up on ghosts after they were dead. It was their inner spirit, or soul, and one's inner spirit would probably be their best image._

 _They swallowed heavily, and in a split second, rushed back into the building and stumbled on their own feet. The gurgling monster was gone, and they weren't sure if it was ever real in the first place, and they crawled over towards the black circle, panting and gasping even though they didn't know if ghosts needed to breathe. They slapped the ground with their palms, making a frustrated whine in the back of their throat, and felt warm tears fall over their face and patter on the ground._

 _They never got to get back home._

 _They thought back to the tree. What a stupid mistake. If only they hadn't stayed up late. If only they hadn't suggested they go to the tree._

 _It was all their fault. They got him killed._

 _"Asriel..." Their cry was muffled in the fabric of their shirt, and they bit down to keep from crying out too loud._

 _It was too late, anyway._

* * *

"Frisk is waking up!"

At Undyne's sudden shout, the others rushed towards the very edge of the force field, practically pushing against it as if it would help any. Sure enough, Frisk was shifting in their place on the chair, and the glowing in their eyes had stopped. The figure in the circle had stopped laughing, and instead they were standing silently, watching Frisk, waiting for something.

Then a multitude of colors ripped out from Frisk's mouth like a scream, and voices flooded the space until there was no other sound except for the screeches and cries. On the tails of the lights were a black stain, and the black stain was rising, rising, rising, until it completely concealed the lights into nothing and made them fall onto the ground in hard, black clumps.

Frisk fell lifelessly, toppling the chair over, and their hands went limp as if they were dead.

The figure in the circle dropped their arms, and there was a resounded gasp. " _GASTER!_ " they screamed, and the voice was so familiar, but _who_ was it? As soon as they charged out of the circle and towards one of the fallen black lights, the others received their answer.

Alphys was the first to speak up. "Ch... Chara?"

Red eyes whirled around to meet her gaze, and then Chara gritted their teeth. " _Go AWAY!_ " They swiped their hand through the air, and suddenly they were all being pushed far, far back into the wall, and they couldn't move. They were rooted to the wall like superglue was holding them down, and they struggled against the invisible restraints.

Chara ran up to Frisk, practically ripping away the restraints binding them and pulling them from the chair. " _Asriel..._ " they called over and over, shaking Frisk back and forth desperately, forcefully opening their eyes in search of something, anything. But nothing was happening, and Chara's face was starting to grow red from what looked like frustration, and they let out a terrifying scream, eyes going black and veins across their skin flooding red. They were glowing, eyes electrifying and hair blowing comically as they screamed and raged at the ceiling, kicking at the ground and scratching at their skin. They stomped against the floor wildly, their shouts and cries getting more and more breathy as they continued, and after a good two minutes of screaming, they collapsed to the ground in a curled ball and their screams were replaced with breathless, hoarse sobs.

The frozen black substance covering the lights began to shake and the black was cracking, letting the light pour through one by one, and then suddenly the black was melted away, some even shattering into millions of pieces and exploding midair. The lights rose collectively, swirling around one another and teleporting to the black circle, each in six of the seven spots lined up around it.

Chara blinked, eyes wide, and they desperately rose to their feet and dragged Frisk along until they were lying in the middle of the circle. And then they stepped back, hands clenched at their sides. Their shoulders were shaking.

Something started to come from Frisk's mouth. It was bright, and red, and it left their body like it was a scattered mist. Frisk's body went completely limp, their face pale and head rolling to the side as the red mist collided together into a heart shape and teleported to the seventh and final spot.

Then Chara whispered something. It was hard to make out exactly what, but it sounded like something along the lines of, " _Please._ "

* * *

Frisk blinked at the figure across from them. It was a boy, wearing a striped shirt that looked similar to Chara's. He looked a lot like Toriel, even having the same smile as her. He looked very familiar, and Frisk was sure they had seen him before, and when their mind flickered back to the boy's voice that saved them from the black tar on that fateful day, they decided to suck in their fear and give the boy a thankful smile.

The boy's own smile drooped ever so slightly, almost unnoticeable, and then he whispered, " _This is wrong._ "

* * *

Chara's breathing was heavy, their legs barely able to keep them up, and they watched as the lights glowed and sparkled and _yes, it was working_ , and soon Asriel would be back and they could watch the stars together again and draw together again and _finally_ be happy and take back the childhood that was oh so wrongly taken from them.

Asriel was somewhere deep in the otherworld, hidden deep in that strange black circle and stuck in the clutches of Gaster, but no, everything was fine and they had offered the seven souls in exchange for their brother's and it was all going to be alright—

" _I'm right here, Chara._ "

They blinked, eyes going wide. " _Asriel?_ "

Frisk's body. He was speaking from _their_ mouth, even though the rest of their body was lifeless, he used Frisk's eyes to look at them, and then he _smiled_.

" _Oh my God,_ " Chara whispered, legs giving out as they crumpled to the ground, and they completely ignored everything else as they dragged themself towards him, towards their brother, and then they sobbed over him. " _Asriel... Asriel, I'm so sorry. Please, I just—_ "

" _Stop,_ " Asriel said, and his voice— _Frisk's_ voice—sounded strained. " _This isn't right. This isn't what I want._ "

" _N-No, it's okay,_ " Chara insisted, giving him a shaky smile. " _It's going to be okay, alright? I'm bringing us back, it'll all be okay I promise!_ "

" _Chara, please. Stop. Don't do this._ " Asriel closed his— _Frisk's_ —eyes and his lip trembled. " _Please. This... it's not good. You're hurting everyone._ "

" _Asriel, listen to me, it's all going to be alright I'm finally going to make things better, okay_?"

" _THIS ISN'T BETTER._ " Asriel's sudden shout made Chara flinch, and they gave him a startled look, hands balling into fists over Asriel's— _Frisk's_ —chest. " _I..._ " he said slowly, and then warm tears spilled over his cheeks and he gave Chara the most broken look they ever saw, and they knew they were crying too. " _This is WORSE, Chara. This... isn't what's right for anyone._ "

Chara opened their mouth to protest, but Asriel cut them off.

" _Don't. Don't say anything and LISTEN to me._ "

Chara closed their eyes, holding a hand over their mouth and nodding as they sniffled, not bothering to wipe away their tears.

" _Don't give away another person's life just to save someone who's already gone,_ " Asriel said softly, shaking his head and biting his quivering lip. " _If you do this, you'll KILL Frisk. You'll destroy them. You'll send their soul and the rest's down in the otherworld, and trust me, it's not really the best place to be. It's awful. It's somewhere that nobody deserves to end up._ "

Chara lowered themself until their face was pressing against Asriel's chest, and even though it was Frisk's body, it was like they could feel Asriel inside and they silently sobbed onto him.

" _Don't go through all this trouble for my sake. I'm already gone._ " He even dared to smile through his tears. " _But you managed to stick around. Funny, huh?_ "

Chara shook their head violently. " _I don't wanna be alone anymore._ " Their voice was muffled by his sweater, and they felt like screaming and crying and hurting something or someone to just get rid of this disgusting feeling.

"Then come with me."

Chara blinked, opening their eyes and lifting their head. " _...What?_ "

" _Cross over, I guess, to put it simpler terms._ " His eyes were soft. " _Then we can play together all we want. We can watch the stars forever. Except... I don't think you'll be able to get your manageable hair and cool car._ "

Chara laughed, despite themself, and wiped their nose with their sleeve and their eyes with the back of their hands.

" _...Alright,_ " they whispered, and lifted their hands only to lower them, sending the souls crashing back to the ground. " _Sounds like a plan._ "

* * *

 _"The deal is off."_

 _"Oh? What kind of compensation are you going to give me for putting me through all this trouble?"_

 _"Ha. I don't care. Take whatever you want."_

 _"Quite bold for someone like you."_

 _"I suppose. Oh well. I'll be going now."_

 _"Of course. Have fun in the otherworld, child."_

 _"Like hell I'm going there."_

 _"Ohoho... whatever you say."_

* * *

Buzzing met Frisk's ears once they opened their eyes. There were faces hovering over them, some worried and some terrified and some crying.

They were in their room, lying on their bed, and before they could comprehend anything Toriel was suddenly hugging them, followed by the rest of their friends. They blinked, eyes blank and expression emotionless as they made no move to reciprocate her hug.

"Oh, my child! You're alright!" she gasped, running her hands along their face and kissing their forehead.

Alright? Of course they were. But there was something churning inside them, something uncomfortable. It felt wet. They didn't like it, but they couldn't show their disgust on their face. They couldn't say anything. They couldn't _feel_ anything.

"Give 'em some space, Tori."

"Oh, yes, of course... I'm sure they must be..."

"You okay, kid?"

"They don't look so well. A bit pale."

"Their eyes look weird too. Like... darker than normal."

"Yeah, there's black in it now."

"MAYBE A SIDE EFFECT OR SOMETHING!"

"Whoa, hey, kid, you alright?"

Frisk soaked in the questions and concerns of their friends, and looked up at all their curious faces. They stared for a long, hard moment, feeling something itching underneath their skin and they just wanted to scratch and scratch until it was gone.

Then they gave a slow, patient smile.

" ** _Yes. I'm just fine._** "

* * *

 **JESUS CHRIST IM FINALLY DONE**

 **UGH**

 **opening ending? opening ending. i wonder what's wrong with frisk :000**

 **sequel? probably not. i think you can decide what happens next.**

 **thank you all for giving this a chance and sticking with it to the end! it really means a lot! i enjoyed writing it very much, even if it wasn't meant to turn into this disaster.**

 **until next time.**

 **(EDIT:**

 **omg i thought i would be easier to tell but basically what happened was that chara called off the deal with gaster and in compensation for them gettig his hopes up and drawing him so close, he was allowed to take whatever he wanted as payment.**

 **so he took frisk)**


End file.
